The School Years of Finneus Rowland
by kerriganlkam
Summary: Like all Hogwarts students, Finn and Charlie are in awe at the moment they arrive. As they make friends, and enemies, they are thrown into a plot that no one believes. And to make it worse, Finn must now finish his days as a werewolf.
1. Chapter 1

**Written By:** Kari Tryk

**Based On:** The Harry Potter Series

**Rating:** T - Language, Sexuality, and Graphic Violence _(If graphic horror or romance, gay or straight, is offensive to you as a reader, this is your warning.)_

**Summary:** Like all Hogwarts students, Finn and Charlie are in awe at the moment they arrive. As they make friends, and enemies, they are thrown into a plot that no one believes. And to make it worse, Finn must now finish his days as a werewolf.

**Spoiler Possibilities: **Setting takes place several years after Voldemort's fall.

**Author's Note: **I suppose it's finally happened. I have been sucked into the trend. Needless to say, I had been wanting to write a suitable fanfiction to the Harry Potter world for more than ten years now, but I never felt my ideas would be worthy. Until I went about a week thinking up a character and unable stop, I started writing it down, along with some side characters and the works. With mild collaboration between my story and a friend's, thus follows the account of Finneus Rowland and his years at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

**Fun Fact: **This fanfiction also intertwines with KGaki's _The School Years of Rhys Elwyn_. You should check it out, yeah?

**"Harry Potter" Universe and Associated Settings/Characters** © J.K. Rowling****

**Rhys Elwyn** ****© Raquel Hernandez****

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

Diagon Alley was particularly warm that day, although the sun was hiding behind an array of gray clouds. It was a bit more humid than Finn would have liked, but he didn't care. His heart was racing too rapidly for him to care about something as ridiculous as the weather. He was clutching an already wrinkled envelope in his hands, practically wringing it into dust as he walked between his parents down the cobblestone street.

"I think robes would do best first, what do you think, dear?" his mother said.

"I want my wand," Finn said insistently. His father, Augustus, let out a chuckle.

"In time, son, relax. When I was your age, I picked robes first," he added, in agreement with Finn's mother, Amelia. "Do you know why?"

Finn's hazel eyes looked up at him curiously. "No. Why?"

"Because you always want to do the boring stuff first," he explained, pointing at Finn with a smile.

"Why?"

"Well, if you do all of the fun stuff first, then there's nothing to look forward to, is there? All that's left is the boring stuff."

As Finn thought it over, he supposed it made sense, but that didn't stop his stomach from tingling at the thought of finally having his own wand.

"Your father has a point, love," his mother said with a smile. "And look. Madam Malkin's is just there."

Finn followed her eyes as she looked a few shops down, his eyes struggling to read the wards carefully painted over the windows, as it was too far for him to see. Not to mention he had difficulty seeing over the heads of the other witches and wizards wandering about the alley. The idea of picking out clothes was so dull that he already felt himself whining. He let out a sigh through his nose as he continued to clutch the envelope he held, which had been nearly ripped to shreds when he had tried to take it from his mother while she was opening it for him.

It had been his letter of acceptance to Hogwarts, the school he had dreamt about since he could remember. His father had always told him stories of what it had been like when he had attended, and he couldn't bear the thought of having to wait a whole other week before he could finally board the train that would take him there. He was excited beyond imagination, so excited in fact that the fear of being overshadowed by the hundreds of other students hadn't even occurred to him yet. For now, he relished the simple joy of knowing there was a place where he could do as much magic as he could dream of. If only he could get his hands on a wand.

They stood to the side as a father stepped out of Madam Malkin's with a young blonde haired boy, who was staring through a pair of oval glasses. He held a package that seemed too large for him, but he smiled at Finn as he passed. Finn smiled back, but paid little more attention. While he listened to his mother discuss his stature briefly with the squat old woman who smiled kindly at her, his father strayed off to the other side of the small shop, eyeing a cloak that was displayed by the window.

Finn had no interest in a new wardrobe, but was polite to Madam Malkin as his mother had taught him, smiling when she asked him to stand at odd angles while she measured his arms, legs, chest and stomach. She wrapped him in various fabrics and tapes while he gazed out of the window at the shop. He spotted an ice cream parlor just across the street, and felt his mouth tingle for a taste. He realized how hungry he was, and looked for his father while his mother stood, her hand pressed under her chin thoughtfully while Madam Malkin worked.

"Dad," he said quickly. His father turned around, and dropped the hem of the cloak he had been assessing.

"Yes?"

"Can we get some ice cream?" the eleven year old asked, his hazel eyes hopeful as he looked back at the window.

"Sounds good to me, what do you think, Amelia?" his father asked, looking over his son's thick dark brown hair.

"I think it should be taken in a little more at the feet," Amelia suggested, staring at the silver haired woman's work.

"I was thinking the same, my dear," Madam Malkin smiled, the side of her mouth full of pins as she tucked a piece of fabric.

"We'll go as soon as she finished," Finn's father promise, putting a hand on his head.

"I want chocolate," Finn said excitedly, "With chocolate chips."

"Sounds like a bit much," Amelia said, raising an eyebrow at her son.

"If he gets a stomach ache, he'll learn," Finn's father shrugged, winking at his son.

Another fifteen minutes went by, and Finn felt his feet started to ache from standing in the same position. His arms were tired from being lifted and dropped more than five times. Finally, Madam Malkin pulled her work off of his shoulders and laid it out on her front desk.

"All done, dear," she smiled, "You have more patience than most boys I've had to fit today."

"Really?" Finn asked.

"Oh, of course. The boys are always so squirmy. The girls I hardly ever have a problem with," she said with a smile at Amelia. "Come back in a few minutes and I'll have these all done for you."

"Thank you," Amelia smiled, following her husband and son out of the shop. They had already rushed into the ice cream parlor. By the time she found her way through the line and stood behind them, she heard Finn say something about rats.

"Should I get one, dad? I read that they're really smart. I'd like one."

"Absolutely not," Amelia insisted, "Why in the world would you want a rat?"

"Why not?" Finn asked.

"Let the boy choose his own pet, Amelia," her husband said softly. He took three ice creams from the teller and led the other two back outside, handing the double scoop of chocolate chip to his son, and the lemon to his wife. She smiled at him gratefully and watched as Finn practically stuck the whole treat in his mouth.

"Well, I'm all right with him choosing his own pet," she agreed, "But rats are quite useless, aren't they? An owl would be more practical."

"But you already have an owl," Finn protested, "If you send me letters, you can send him, and I just send him back. Aren't owls more expensive, anyway? What about a cat?" he added quickly to his father. "I read that kneazles are _really_ smart, smarter than rats, and he could protect me, too! They get big, don't they?"

Amelia rolled her eyes with a laugh as they all stood and ate, taking care to stay out of the way of other shoppers. After a few minutes, she crossed the cobblestone street and stepped into Madam Malkin's shop to retrieve Finn's new robes. When she came back out with them, Finn's father was explaining the houses of Hogwarts to him, in a very brief summary.

"But if I'm not sorted _now_, how am I supposed to know if I have right robes?" Finn asked, looking at the wrapped package his mother now held. She finished her ice cream and then tucked the package under her arm comfortable. Finn had the impression that his parents knew what house he was going to be sorted in, and the emblems were already sewn onto his robes. Yet, for whatever reason, he wasn't allowed to see them until he was told when he arrived at the school.

"One of these is your winter robe," Amelia explained. "You have your three plain robes for your uniform, and when we pass by the apothecary, we'll find you some of those gloves they were asking for on that list of yours."

"The colors of your house are added to your uniform when the Hat decides where you belong," his father shrugged.

"And your robe isn't the only part to your uniform, dear," Amelia offered, "There are shirts, and pants, and sweaters as well."

"That's a stupid way to do things, it makes no sense," Finn declared.

"I thought Madam Malkin called him patient earlier?" Augustus said curiously.

"Must have misheard," she smiled. "Come on, let's go find your books."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Finn finished his ice cream and then grumbled about going to get his books next, but found himself amazed by the time they arrived at Flourish and Blotts. It was literally stacked to the ceiling of books, scrolls, and all manners of writing that he could hardly keep his eyes on any one item. He immediately headed for a stack to inspect.

"I need your list, sweetheart," his mother said. Finn unwrinkled the letter in his hands and handed it to her. She unfolded the papers within the envelope, and her husband read over her shoulder, as she did her best to smooth the parchment.

"All right, I've got Potions, Charms, and History of Magic. You grab the rest?" Augustus offered.

"Sounds good," she smiled, heading onto the opposite side of the shop. "Come on, Finny. I want to show you something."

"Sure," he said, his eyes still gazing at the towering stacks of books beside the door. He wondered how any shopkeeper would grab a book from the stack if any wizard came in asking for the one at the very bottom.

"Here it is," Amelia smiled, grabbing a first edition copy of some title that Finn couldn't read upside down. "Astronomy was my favorite subject," she said, "And it's one you'll have to take this year. Remember how I took you to see the stars that one night in the country?"

Finn nodded, remembering vividly how many stars he had tried to count. The white wisps in the air that his mother had called the outsides of the galaxy, and he remembered how awestruck he had been to hear his mother rattle off the names of over a hundred stars.

"This will teach you all of the names I know," she said, handing the book to him, "How would you like that?"

He opened the book with curiosity, flipping through the rough pages and seeing how small the words were written. There had to be over a thousand words on every page. He was suddenly afraid he would never be able to read it all before the year was over.

"It's so long," he said in disbelief.

"You have a great memory, just like I do," Amelia said reassuringly, "Don't fret."

He held the book close to his chest as they wandered through more tables, shelves, and piles of books. He bumped into a small table stacked with several books, and a couple toppled onto the floor. He jumped and looked around frantically for the shopkeeper. When he saw no one, he knelt down and started gathering the few that were now on the floor.

"Finn!" his father called.

"Coming!" he answered quickly, trying to stack the books as they had been before, and then hurrying across the shop to where his father's voice had sounded from.

"Thank you for that, boy," the manager behind the counter at the front said graciously, "Most of you kids make a whole mess in here without picking up after yourselves," he then insisted almost grumpily under his breath.

"I think we've got everything," Augustus said with a sure smile, handing the stack of eight or nine books to the manager.

"And what about that one?" the man asked, pointing at the one Finn still had in his arms. The boy looked down and then reached up to hand it to him. "I see. An eye for the stars, have you?"

"I did when I was younger," Amelia answered for him, looking down at her son, who was staring at a cage full of books that seemed completely harmless. He wondered why they were locked behind the steel bars, and stepped over to them, one eyebrow cocked.

"I wouldn't get close, boy, those books have a temper," the manager warned as he looked over the texts he held, marking their prices as he went.

Finn stopped in front of the cage and stared at the spines of a few that were stacked at odd angles. He couldn't read them well in the dim light, but he swore he heard a small growling from inside the cage.

He stuck his nose in between the bars for a better look, and then screamed as one of them leapt at his face. He jumped back as the books pages flapped madly on the steel bar, as though it were trying to chew its way through.

"Ruddy things, they are," the manager insisted with an unaffected sigh, "Had them for years, no one buys them anymore, so I'm stuck with them."

Finn scooted his way along the floor in a fright, hiding behind his mother as he stared from behind her leg at the book. It flopped back down on top of the rest of the pile, and as it did so, it stirred a few of the other books, which growled and snapped at it. Within moments, there were shreds and scraps of paper flying everywhere as the books began to tear at each other in some animalistic fray.

"Here you are," the manager said finally, wrapping the books together in thick paper before handing them to Finn's parents. "Good luck at school, boy."

"Thanks," Finn gulped. His parents led him out of the stop, and he gaped at the now rattling steel cage of books that snarled and growled every which way until the manager came down the steps behind his counter and stuck an old cane through the bars, poking and thumping at them until they stopped.

"There are books that can do that?" Finn asked in amazement.

"You'd be surprised what some enchanted things can do," Augustus assured, "Amelia, you were always better at Potions than I was. Why don't you pick out his cauldron and some things from the apothecary? I'll take him to the Menagerie and see what he decides on."

"Menagerie?" Finn repeated. He had no idea what the word meant.

"All right, dear. I'm warning you, I'm getting him the best pewter they have."

"Anything," he assured, waving his wife away and giving Finn a quick wink. As she disappeared, he turned Finn around and they wandered a few stores past Flourish and Blotts until Finn spotted a sign that stated it was a "Magical" something. He couldn't pronounce the last word very well, but his father directed him through the door, and he stared.

"Welcome to the Magical Menagerie!" a cheerful voice said, making Finn's brain click to the word. A wizard in a long silver robe nearly floated across the floor to them away from another family. "Looking for a particular companion today? We have a fabulous sale on our rats, all colors and sizes!"

"We're taking a look for now, but thank you," Augustus said with a warm smile, looking down at Finn, who stared at the magnificently gleaming robe the man wore.

"Just looking, eh?" he repeated. "Well, if you have any questions at all, don't hesitate to ask. I suggest a look at the bats, as well, little one," the man added, throwing open his cloak and handing Finn a small furry ball that Finn took curiously. "They're excellent fetchers when you lose things."

The man drifted away again with a smile to help another couple that had walked in behind them, and Finn's father pushed lightly on his shoulder. They walked around a few tables and Finn stared curiously at the ball in his palm. It was warm, and appeared to be covered in more peach fuzz than fur.

"Dad, what is it?"

"I'm not sure, son," his father admitted, looking closer at the object. Then, without warning, it moved. It rolled onto its back and folded out like a piece of paper.

"It's a bat," Augustus said, taking another close look.

"It's so small," Finn muttered, poking at it with his thumb. It made a loud squeak and crawled up his hand. In a moment, it squeaked again and leapt onto his shoulder. Then, it jumped into the air and was gone. Finn stared incredulously behind him, wondering where it had flown off to.

"My, look at this," his father said in surprise. He was staring at a tall cage with what appeared to be hundreds of multicolored patches wriggling around the many levels inside. Several shades of gray, deep blue, black, white, and tan were some of what Finn was able to pick out.

"Rats," Augustus said with a smile, "Look at how small they are."

"Just a few months old," the shopkeeper said from behind them, making Finn jump, "And already smart enough to read your homework to you. Ever owned a rat before, sir?"

"Well, no. Read for you, you don't say?" Finn's father muttered.

"Dad, I know how to read, I don't need a rat to do it for me," Finn insisted. The shopkeeper laughed and his father stood up with an apologetic smile.

"I know that, son, I was just admiring them."

"Admire all you like," the man in the silver robe offered, "Cats, rats, even vampire bats. I have them all, extra large and small." He waved his wand from under the sleeve of his robe and Finn's eyes immediately locked onto it. He watched the swift movement and saw a thick dusty book come floating down from the top of a cabinet behind the counter. The man took it in his hands and swept his fingers along the top, scattering dust that made Finn want to sneeze.

"My directory of every creature I have ever sold or had in my possession. If I may say so, it adds a bit more detail than the most advanced manual for the care of magical creatures. Have a look if you'd like," he offered, bending down and holding out the tall book to Finn.

"Really?" he asked excitedly.

"Of course! Just make sure to leave it up on my counter before you leave, yeah? Come find me if you've spotted something you like."

Augustus gave the man a grateful nod and looked over his son's shoulder as he pulled back the heavy cover. There were pages neatly written or scrawled and barely legible, in lists and descriptions that Finn could barely wrap his head around.

"Look, dad, he has a whole section just for owls!"

"Yeah. Hundreds of different kinds there are, I've heard."

"There's such thing as an Eagle Owl?"

"Supposed to be huge," Augustus nodded.

"Wow." Finn flipped through the shopkeeper's records of the owls he had kept, before he came upon a section about cats. As he continued reading, his father knelt down to admire the rats again. One of the smaller black and white ones stuck its nose through the bar to sniff at him.

"I want an owl, dad," Finn said finally. He had gone back to the section in the pages and was reading the many names listed there.

"Very useful, and _practical_, as your mother would say." Augustus took the book from Finn as the boy closed it and set it back on the counter.

"Come to any decision?" the shopkeeper asked from behind them, making Finn jump as he had before. He looked around, wondering how the man was sneaking around so fast.

"I think he's made up his mind on an owl," Finn's father said with a deep breath.

"Ah, expensive," the shopkeeper said under his breath, "Unfortunately I'm afraid I have to send you just across the street, then." The man pointed with a long grizzled finger at the store through the window. Finn noticed his hands were very wrinkled, and was wondering why, but said nothing as he didn't want to be rude.

"Eeylops?"

"Yes," the man said almost sadly, "Crazy coot over there struck a deal with me I couldn't pass up, so I no longer sell owls to the public."

"That's a bit odd."

"Well, he promised to not open a new section to his store to sell other magical creatures if I agreed to take down my owl display. Suppose it was for the best, it was getting rather small anyway," the man smiled, "All in good business. How'd you like the book, my boy?"

"Wonderful," Finn said excitedly, "Did you really own all of those things?"

"Every last one of them," the man answered proudly, "Even owned a few grindylows a few years back. Those were some tricky buggers to sell. Come across some strange things every now and again, but I do enjoy taking care of them."

"Grindylows, good gracious me," Augustus said, raising his eyebrows.

"As I said, tricky little buggers. You off to Hogwarts this year, boy?" the shopkeeper asked, looking down at Finn.

"My first year," Finn nodded.

"You stay away from that lake, you hear? Grindylows love deep lakes," the man added, shaking a finger, but then added with a smile, "Now, go get your owl. I know you've got an eye for a good one."

"Yes, sir," he grinned. Augustus led Finn out of the Magical Menagerie and towards Eeylops Owl Emporium. There was still no sign of Amelia, so he pressed on, positive she would find them again eventually. Finn skirted around another couple as they led their daughter by the shoulders through the crowd. She nearly bumped into him, and apologized quickly, brushing her reddish blonde hair from her eyes.

He looked down the street as she turned a corner into a shop, but then his father ushered him inside of Eeylops. The sound of whistles and rattling cages turned his attention straight forward, and his jaw fell open.

He saw more than twenty cages around the inside of the store, along with several shelves and tables for foods and other accessories needed for the care of the owls. Shiny new cages were lined in a perimeter on a shelf that trailed at the top of all four walls, and another display behind the counter, where a short old man with white hair and giant spectacles was checking off a list of some kind with a large feather quill.

Finn jumped back as a large white owl whistled loudly at him, and his father held his shoulders firmly, calming him down with a reassuring smile. Finn was suddenly in shock at how large most of the birds were. Their family owl, Twilight, was a very small Screech Owl. The white one that had just hooted at him was over twice his size. Possibly even three times.

"Good afternoon, sir," the old man with the white hair said. His voice was a bit raspy but very kind. "Something I can help you find today? We've just got our new hatchling formula in today, great for the little ones if you're breeders yourselves." He smiled, the wrinkles at the side of his mouth pulling back like a pair of curtains from a window.

"Well, we're hoping to find an owl for my boy today, since he's decided it's an owl he wants."

"Birthday present?" the man asked hopefully, setting down his quill.

"Start of term," Augustus explained.

"Oh, those are my favorite," the man insisted with a small clap, hurrying out from behind his counter. He was nearly a foot shorter than Finn's father, and his robe was much too long for him. It dragged along the dusty floor, trailing more than a few inches. "Have you got one in mind, lad?"

"Well, I don't know," Finn said shakily. He found himself terrified of the owl that almost seemed larger than himself. He didn't want one that was too big for him, nor one that was as small as Twilight. The poor thing was small enough to sit on Finn's head comfortably, and he had a habit of doing so. Finn was annoyed by it, so he hoped to have an owl that was large enough to stick to its own perch when it had one.

"Looking for big or small?" the man asked. "I've been raising a Burrowin' Owl for a couple weeks now, he's been old enough to set out on his own. What do you think?"

"What's a 'Burrown Owl'?" Finn asked.

"Burrowing Owl, son," Augustus corrected. The little old man hurried across then dusty floor and opened a small cage that was beside his counter.

"Come on, Digger, come on," he said quietly.

"Burrowing Owls like to run a lot," Finn's father explained, "Good for local travel, if you want to send mail close by, just like Elf Owls or Scops Owls."

"But if I'm at Hogwarts, why would I have a Burrowing Owl, then?" Finn asked. His father hushed him as the old man came around a shelf, holding the strangest owl Finn had ever seen.

It was small, but also very tall for its kind. Its legs were long and slender, and its feathers were speckled with spots. It tilted its head sideways at him and chirped once, its wide eyes glassy. The shopkeeper smiled at Finn and then looked at the bird. "Digger's about six months now, and he's the fastest runner I've had yet. He got away from me once, and believe me, he was the hardest thing to catch. Now, I know you'll be up at a school, and you'll want a long distance flyer, but take a look at his size, and tell me what you think."

Augustus smiled to himself, knowing that this shopkeeper was definitely going to be a big help.

Finn leaned in just a bit closer to look at the owl, who cocked his head so oddly that Finn had to blink, thinking it was a trick. Sure enough, it was real; the owl had turned his head almost completely upside down.

"He's small," Finn said with a shrug, not sure of what else to say.

"Do you like small?" his father asked, "That big one seemed to give you a scare."

"I do like him," Finn agreed, looking at the shopkeeper questioningly. The shopkeeper gave him a nod as Finn held out his hand to pet the feathers along Digger's chest. The owl cooed quietly and turned his head right side up, but then looked off to the right. Finn moved his fingers cautiously, taking note of how small but very sharp the owl's beak was. "He's soft."

"I have a couple of owls here that will be just a tad larger than him at full grown, if you're interested, but not many others that are smaller than him. I try to recommend the larger for students, considering the long flights and all," the shopkeeper added.

"What others did you have in mind?" Augustus asked. The shopkeeper took a step back and went to put the Burrowing Owl back in his cage. Finn stretched his neck out to catch one last glimpse at the odd bird as it twisted its head around again.

"He was bigger than Twilight," Finn said in a quiet voice.

"I think all owls are bigger than Twilight," his father suggested with a sly smile. Finn could agree, since the bird was nearly the size of a large pigeon, if even. The shopkeeper made a clattering sound, a small "oops" was heard, and then the squeak of another cage door. He came around the corner with another owl on his arm that appeared the same size as Digger, but one could easily tell how young it still was. It was definitely going to grow bigger.

There was an enormous amount of fluffy white feathers all around its face. It looked soft enough to be a small cloud surrounding a pair of giant yellow eyes. It stared intently at Finn, and it unnerved him enough to make him want to look away, yet at the same time he couldn't take his eyes off of those yellow orbs.

"He's a bit young still," the shopkeeper admitted, "But he's tame enough for a young wizard, especially considering his size, if you'd rather grow into him, as it were," the man added with a smile. "I'd give him another week or so before all of his fluff is gone. His wings are fully matured, and he's a great flyer from what I've seen so far."

"What kind of owl is he?" Finn asked, keeping eye contact with the bird. Neither of them seemed to blink, and Augustus narrowed his eyebrows curiously.

"He's a Great Horned Owl. Can't tell much right now, but once that fluff clears, he's going to have the pointiest little ears you've ever seen. Stick right off the top of his head, they do!"

Finn was amused by the thought. The owl chirped at him and swiveled his head. He reached out to touch the feathers around his face, which felt almost like air. With a small coo, the owl closed his eyes, and the shopkeeper smiled.

"Seems to like you," he said with a nod.

"How big will he get?" the young boy asked cautiously.

"Oh, a foot and half, give or take. I don't think he'll be one of the runts, though. Wing span usually runs forty to fifty inches at that height."

"Sounds perfect to me," Finn's father said, "What do you think?"

Finn held his arm out like the shopkeeper and held his other hand above his elbow, trying to imagine how big that would be. He moved his hand up and down as he thought, and the shopkeeper reached out to grab his wrist. He held it still at a spot and then smiled.

"That's about what you're looking, lad."

Finn thought to himself, and then looked at the owl again, who was staring at him with his eyes as big as bright yellow walnuts. The feathers covering the rest of his body were speckled gray and white, with spots of black scattered about. What Finn's eyes became stuck on were his feet. They were covered in thick white feathers, and ended in wickedly curved black talons.

"Don't worry about those, boy," the man assured, "An owl always knows its master, they'd never claw you unless you were a threat."

"Am I one now?" Finn asked hesitantly. The man laughed and the owl shuddered his wings, staring at Finn endlessly.

"Not at all. If you were, he wouldn't have let you pet him like you did, trust me."

He looked the owl over again, captivated by its speckled mesh of black and white, with the slightest hints of copper just mixed in with the gray. Finn didn't deny that he was beautiful, and he decided he could get used to the owl's growth, provided it happened slowly.

"I like him, dad," he said finally, looking at his father with a smile.

"You sure?"

Finn lifted his hand to stroke the soft feathers again and nodded as the owl closed his eyes once more. He was very mellow, the boy noticed, and that he could handle.

"I suppose we'll need a cage for him as well, then," Augustus said, straightening up.

"I have the finest cages you'll find around here, sir. Silver, copper, pewter or steel, you name it. Personally I recommend the steel myself, lasts a long time. However, if you're looking for luxury, the silver would do best. Hm?"

"I want that one," Finn spoke up, pointing at one that he saw in the very top corner above the front desk. It was two and a half feet tall and two feet wide. The bars were shiny and smooth, with a sturdy perch just in the middle. The top was domed and perfectly rounded, with a thick handle on the top. He looked at the bird's feet again and imagined them curled tightly around the perch, hoping he would be comfortable inside of it.

"Excellent choice, I would have picked it myself!" the man said excitedly, walking with the owl on his arm towards the front desk. He pulled his wand out of his robes and waved it absentmindedly at the cage. He shuffled around a few papers on the wooden surface and tucked his wand away as the cage hovered behind him before landing gently beside his elbow.

"Does he have a name like Digger?" Finn asked, following his father up to desk.

"Not yet," the man answered, scooting a paper and a quill along the counter towards Augustus. "That will be for you to decide, yes?"

Finn set his mind to work with a nod, promising to find the best name he could think of. As his father signed a piece of parchment, the shopkeeper opened the shiny door to the cage and held his arm to it. The owl chirped and hooted once before the man raised his eyebrows. The owl shifted along his arm and then climbed inside, hopping onto the perch and settling around noisily. After closing the cage door and making sure it was securely closed, the man took the parchment from Augustus and looked it over, humming to himself.

"All right, perfect. Now, my boy, I'll have you sign this as well. He's your bird, so it's got to be your name right here, see?" He tapped the end of the brown feather quill to a line at the bottom of the page, above where his father had just signed his name. In perfect writing after a blank space, it read _"Responsible Party"_. There were many other words on the paper he didn't catch, but his father lifted him slightly to have him sign his name, as he couldn't reach his elbow over the top of the desk.

"All right," the man said with a grin as Augustus handed him a small bag of something that clinked loudly. "You've made a wise decision today, my boy. Take good care of him, you hear?"

"I will," Finn promised. His father grabbed the handle of the cage and the owl shuddered his wings again, looking back at the shopkeeper, who waved at them. They stepped out onto the street, and Finn fixed his gaze on the bird as his father led him down the way. He couldn't keep himself from wanting to look at the birds enormous yellow eyes. He admitted they were mesmerizing, and he began to wonder if that was an enchantment that all owls placed on wizards.

They wandered on, and he began to ponder every animal he could imagine, and if they had similar enchantments, if any. He smiled at the thought of such mysteries.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"Amelia!" his father called out, shaking him out of his wonders. He spotted his mother on the other side of a crowd, holding two more packages with the one she had been holding with his robes from earlier.

"I picked up a few others things," she said with a smile, her breathing sounding a little hard. "Had to fight a crowd tooth and nail for some of those really good quills we saw here the other week."

"Must be popular," his father agreed, and then lifting up the cage, added, "Meet Finn's new owl."

"Oh my," she said with a light gasp, "Such a big cage?"

"He's going to grow," Finn said matter-of-factly, "He's still a bit little, like me."

"Oh, you'll grow up just fine, son," Augustus said, "And it's good to have a cage he'll grow into."

"Well, he won't spend much time in it, will he?" Amelia reminded, "What with the owlery at the school and all."

"He's got seven years of travelling ahead of him, dear," his father countered, "And Finn picked the cage himself."

"He's a Great Horned Owl," Finn continued, "And when all of his fluff on his head there goes away, he's going to grow ears!"

Amelia chuckled. "I see. Well, a fine pick, then. What's his name?"

"I haven't thought of one yet," Finn said sheepishly, his shoulders sagging a bit. "What if I don't think of one good enough?" He looked at his father with worry.

"Oh, I doubt that. Don't fuss over it. Besides, we still have to get your wand, don't we?" His mother gave him a sly smile and his heart leapt, his stomach suddenly full of butterflies. In all the excitement of buying his owl, he had nearly forgotten about his wand. It became clear to him that his father had probably planned it that way, but he didn't care now.

He walked in between his parents, nearly leaping as he walked, hoping he didn't excite himself into fainting as the wand shop he had dreamed of came into site. Finn's heart began to pound harder than he could remember, making him lightheaded.

He glanced through the dusty window and spotted the dimness inside, and the barely visible mountains of small boxes that stacked on the shelves. They wavered left and right, or so Finn could see. His feet led him through the doorway, almost tripping on the transition between the cobblestone and the rickety wooden floor of the shop.

His eyes stayed wide, even in the dusty air as it made his eyelids itch. They went up, up, and up to try and see the very tops of the shelves, but they almost rose out of sight entirely. They heard a small scuffle somewhere in the back of the shop, and several thuds as something apparently toppled over. A small grunt was heard, then a sigh. There was a muffled, "Oh, bugger all."

"Mr. Ollivander?" Augustus called just loud enough for Finn's eyes to snap out of their daze. He saw the faded front of the desk, the edges worn and speckled with paint chips. It seemed as though almost everything was covered in at least an eon of dust or cobwebs. The only item in the store that seemed to be free of dust was an old black ladder leaned up against one of the shelves.

"Ah, Mr. Rowland!"

They all jumped as the short old man came bumbling out from behind a giant stack of boxes with a toothy grin. The wrinkles on his face were beyond count, and Finn couldn't even begin to imagine how old the man was.

"Yes, yes, I remember you, sir. Best elm wand I've ever crafted, if I do say so myself. And Mrs. Rowland, good to see you again! Of course you were a little Crowley when I met you, of course, of course. Elm as well, yes."

"Good to see you again," Augustus said, extending his hand for a shake. Mr. Ollivander took it with fervor, shaking it with both hands excitedly.

"Wonderful, wonderful. My thirtieth visitor today, let me tell you," he started. His gravelly voice seemed to run like an old record, fast and rough, but very clear all the same. Finn was a little shocked, as the man seemed positively mad in all aspects. "And this must be your son, yes, yes. How are you, my lad?"

"Um -"

"Splendid!" The man clapped his hands together, a small puff of dust scattering from them as he soon climbed up the black ladder Finn had noticed. He guessed this was why the ladder was only thing that seemed to be in use. He couldn't imagine how anyone could possibly get to the wands at the top of the shelves any other way. "Let's see, only the best elm for my Rowlands, of course. Your whole family has used elm, all the way up from your great-great- grandfather, am I right, Augustus?"

"Sure are," the man smiled down at his son.

"And broke it soon after buying it from me, he did. Had a bad bout in a duel, if I remember right. Though I made him one a trifle better afterwards. Some of the best wands I've crafted from elm, you know. Your family seems to have a knack for their uses, I think. Here we are."

He came scuttling back down the ladder with a long and thin black box. He tugged the top off of it and pulled out the dark and smooth wand. Finn's eyes practically sparkled at its beauty. Its light cocoa color reflected off of the polished handle, and Finn felt his heart stop as he took it from the old man. He felt a buzz on his palm that startled him, and he almost dropped it.

"Careful lad. The wand knows," he added, waving a finger. "Now, give it a try."

Unsure of what else to do, Finn flicked his wrist around and the wand made a loud bang as bright red sparks shot out of the tip of the wand, shooting straight at the desk and scorching the surface. It fell out of Finn's hand as he gave a cry.

"Clearly not, clearly not," Ollivander said, unfazed as he hurried back up the ladder. "Plenty more where that came from, yes."

Finn's shoulders trembled as his father tried to calm him down with a laugh. "It's all right son, they all do that the first time."

"Not all of them," Amelia said in a hushed voice.

"That's right. Yours nearly blew a hole through my roof, didn't it, Mrs. Rowland?" Ollivander laughed and he came back down the ladder with another box.

"That it did," she sighed with a nostalgic smile. "Oddly enough, that was its positive reaction to me."

"You mean my wands going to explode when I get it?" Finn asked suddenly in a panic. His hand was held out as Ollivander was about to hand him another wand made of elm. This one was shorter and lighter than the last one.

"No, they don't all explode," Augustus assured, giving Amelia a warning glance so that she would keep her mouth shut.

As his father said this, Finn felt his hand burn and he yelped, dropping the wand as it hit the floor and shot a white bolt into Ollivander's foot. The man jumped up and batted a flame from his shoe with an amused chuckle, and then wandered into the back of the store with a trail of light smoke following him.

"DAD!" Finn shouted, cradling his hand as it stung.

"Oh, you're fine, love," his mother said, taking his hand and rubbing it gently. "I know you expected this to be a fun experience, but the truth is, it takes a lot for a wand to match a wizard, especially a young one. You have to be patient."

"Well, I _would_ be if they would quit _exploding_ all over the place!" he shouted.

"Calm down, lad, here. Try this one," Ollivander assured, pulling another shorter wand from a box. "This one's got a unicorn hair in its core, a little less overwhelming. Try that."

Finn let out a small involuntary whine before cautiously taking the smooth wand from him. The handle was slightly twisted, and felt strange in his palm. It gave no reaction his touch, so he calmed a little. With a hesitant breath, he flicked it, and it issued a hiss. Another bright white bolt shot from it, this time narrowly missing Ollivander's head and disintegrating a lamp that was sitting behind him.

"Oh," he said with a pause, "Well. I was looking to get rid of that lamp anyway. No matter, let's try another one."

"Can I try a different kind?" Finn asked, "I think the elm ones don't like me very much."

"Oh, you do?" Ollivander asked, taking the twisted handled wand from him. "Well then, what would you like me to find for you, boy? Any knowledge of wandlore in that small head of yours?"

"Perhaps something a little less expectant," Augustus suggested. He leaned into Ollivander's ear and whispered, "He is a little unsure of himself, he's still young in the head, if you know what I mean."

"Ah. Willow, perhaps?"

"That might do well," Finn's father nodded. The young boy stared around the room, now frightened of each and every wand hidden away in every box. He felt they were all now pointed at him in their hiding places, judging him for being so impatient, for simply wanting a wand just for the sake of wanting one.

It was clear to him that all wizards needed a wand, but he was unsure of what he would ever use his for. He wanted to learn magic as much as the next boy, but he dreamed of being someone who _understood_ the magic he was going to learn. He was particularly curious of changing things into something else. He'd seen his father do it on more than one occasion, but he had forgotten what it had been called. Transference? _No, that wasn't it._

"Here we are. Willow, ten inches, phoenix feather. Try that on for size."

Finn took in a brave breath, glancing around at the other wands, and steadying himself. He grabbed the wand firmly and gave it a wave without pause. The light wood glowed at the tip and made a small fizzled noise. A stream of smoke billowed from it, making him cough as he tried to hand it back to the old man.

"Hm. I think we should stick to the unicorn hair for you. Maybe another less temperamental wood," Ollivander muttered to himself as he disappeared beyond the shelves. Finn looked over his shoulder and saw his parents glancing at a large pyramid display of boxes. They blew a layer of dust off of a few boxes, reading their descriptions and seals.

Finn sagged his shoulders and sighed, looking around himself and stepping up to the large desk that now bore a scorch mark from his first try. He ran his fingers over it, looking at the black smudge on his hand from the charred spot.

He wandered over to a shelf that was stacked almost entirely to the ceiling. He couldn't even fathom trying to pull one of the boxes from the shelf. They looked so tightly packed that they could have been cemented together, for all he knew. He wondered why Ollivander made so many more wands than he actually sold.

He wiped dust from a layer of the boxes and read each of them out of curiosity. He truthfully knew nothing of wandmaking, and all of the apparently different woods needed to make them. He had no idea why Ollivander was rambling something about unicorn hair. As he read over the boxes, he passed several phrases that he barely recognized. Words like "veela", "dittany", "hawthorn", and "yew".

He turned to his right and took another few steps to a table stacked with only a few boxes. They were long and thin, some cylindrical and some square, and almost seemed like polished wood themselves. The other boxes seemed to be made of cardboard or some other material. He picked one up and wiped his sleeve along it to read what was printed on there. The three of them looked up quickly when Olivander made a small shout as they heard several boxes topple to the ground. Finn saw his parents glance at each other with a small smile.

Finn squinted to read the small print on the dark box, and gave up when he could barely decipher it. Out of curiosity, he pulled the top cover from the box and opened it, looking inside. On a smooth satin cloth was a sleek black wand. He was surprised at how smooth it looked, and it looked so simple compared to other wands he had seen. Most had decorated handles, or twisted wood. This one was straight and smooth, with a simple raised handle. The bottom was round, and it was the color of polished charcoal. He picked it up out of the box to turn it over, looking at the tip.

"Finn, don't point strange wands at your face, dear," his mother warned. It seemed a fair warning, and Finn immediately pointed it away from his face. He gave it a small wave and then froze.

The tip of the wand began to shine with a silvery light, and where Finn had turned it in a circle, it trailed shimmering ribbons of gold and silver, which hung in the air before fading into smoky wisps. His palm felt like he had just plunged his hand into warm water, and the feeling travelled up his arm and into his chest.

"Augustus," Amelia whispered.

Finn looked up at them in surprise and his father turned around with raised eyebrows.

"I want it, dad."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Finn couldn't remember the train station ever being so crowded, but then again, he had never been on Platform 9 ¾. The scarlet red train was billowing smoke at their feet as his parents ushered him onto the train with hurried farewells. He could still feel his mother's kiss on his cheek as he rubbed his sleeve on his face, dragging his trunk behind him and holding his owl's cage out in front. Taller and older students scooted past him, shouting and hollering to each other.

He made it through almost three cars before he finally found one that wasn't already filled with students, especially the older ones. He had never felt so small in his life, he thought. He nearly tripped over another student that looked about his age, before he peered into a section and found it occupied by one other boy, whose face was hidden under a head of straight blonde hair and behind a large brown book. His stomach churned, but he plucked up the courage to speak.

"Um - excuse me," he stuttered. The boy's bright blue eyes peeked over the top of the large book he had his nose stuck into, from behind a pair of oval glasses. "Do you mind if I sit with you?"

"Not at all, sit where you like," he smiled, putting the old book down in his lap, but leaving it open. Finn spotted a black lump near his stomach and tried not to stare at whatever it was, looking instead for a place to set his owl's cage. He put it on the seat beside the window and then looked at the luggage racks overhead, trying to figure out how to lift his trunk up into a suitable space.

"Here, let me help," the other boy offered immediately, putting the black lump and his book aside on the seat. The two lifted both sides of the trunk and heftily shoved it onto the rack above them. With an exhausted breath, Finn slumped into the seat, pushing his hair back from his forehead.

"Thanks."

"Any time," the other said, picking his book and the lump back up. The black thing seemed to melt under his fingers and loll into some strange shape. Finn finally decided to ask.

"What is that thing?"

"Oh, this is Talon," the boy said with a small chuckle. "He's a bit lazy, I know. I figured I'd let him sleep, though, not much else he's good for." The boy flopped the apparent creature into his lap and picked his book back up, trying to find his spot.

"What is he?" Finn asked, feeling stupid.

"He's a cat - well, a kitten, really. He's only a couple of months old. I wanted an owl, but - " The boy trailed off as his eyes met the bird in Finn's cage beside him on the seat. The owl had finally molted the last of its baby feathers just the day before, and was now beginning to show its speckled coat. "Well. I got Talon," the boy added with a small sniff, holding his book back up to his face. Finn hoped he wasn't jealous. He hated making people feel jealous.

"I'm Finn," he said, nearly shaking his head from the ridiculousness of forgetting introductions. "Finn Rowland, nice to meet you." He didn't know what else to do, so he held out his hand awkwardly.

"Charles Grisham. Call me Charlie," he added, sticking out his own pale hand from behind the book and shaking Finn's. The darker haired boy noticed an array of freckles on his new friend's face, and they seemed to accent his smile. He pushed his oval spectacles up his nose with a friendly face.

"Nice to meet you, Charlie," Finn smiled, sinking back into his seat comfortably and staring out of the window at the platform. There was a large billowing sound from the engine of the train and he watched the platform slowly begin to move.

"First year at Hogwarts?" Charlie asked, noticing Finn's face as it stared longingly after the crowd of parents that disappeared. Finn nodded and Charlie shrugged. "Me too."

"You sound relaxed enough," Finn noted.

"Oh, I'm terrified," the boy insisted, looking over the top of his book with raised eyebrows. Finn wasn't convinced, so instead tried to decipher the title of the book he held.

"What is that?"

"_Magical Draughts and Potions_," he said matter-of-factly. "I'm on the fifth chapter, it's fascinating. I've read it a dozen times already, not that it matters."

"Potion making?"

"I love it," Charlie said excitedly, "I've been dying to take my first potions class, my father's very famous for his potions. Do you know him? Oliver Grisham?"

"Can't say I've heard of him," Finn admitted. Charlie shrugged and went back to reading. Finn tapped his fingers on the seat and looked over at his owl, who rotated his head to look out the window with a tired blink. "So - where are you from?"

"Cardiff. You?"

"Manchester," Finn said, tapping his fingers still. And to keep the conversation going, he asked, "What else do you know about potions?"

"Loads. I hope to be a master one day, maybe even a teacher at Hogwarts. Do you know anything about potion making?"

Finn shook his head. "Not much of that done around my house. And I'm terrible at cooking. I tried making soup with my mum once, nearly burnt the kitchen down."

Charlie grimaced at the thought and looked down as Talon, the black kitten, apparently rolled over in his sleep. "Is there anything you are good at?"

Finn tried not to be offended at the hinted accusation that he was a failure at everything. He tried to think and nothing coherent seemed to want to leave his mouth. Then after a moment, he managed, "Colors."

Charlie blinked. "Colors?"

Finn cleared his throat. "You know, colors. I'm - good at making - colors."

"Like paint?"

"No, not like _paint_, like I can change things into colors, I can change the color of things. I turned a tree in our backyard red once," he recalled randomly.

"That's pretty odd," Charlie said with a pause, "Does that happen a lot?"

"Only if I think real hard about it. But mum said that's normal for young wizards. She says I'll probably grow out of it."

"Not at all," Charlie said, putting his book down, "That's something, you shouldn't grow out of it. Maybe you'll be good at something bigger like it, like changing the color of animals and stuff. Maybe even transfiguration."

"Transmutation?" Finn asked.

"_Transfiguration_," Charlie laughed. "Transfiguration, the practice of changing things, like their shape and color. You could even become an Animagus someday if you tried, I think."

Finn hardly doubted he could become an Animagus at the age of eleven, but he smiled at the thought.

"I bet you got a wand just for it, too. You seem like the type. What's your wand? Mahogany, I'd say. Right?" Charlie asked curiously, finally closing his book and setting it down next to him.

"Well, no," Finn said, shifting in his seat. Charlie opened his jacket that he was wearing and pulled out a long and slender wand, light and polished with a raised and carved grip. It had a light array of etchings around the end, but towards the tip was straight and smooth. Easily brand new, Finn could tell. He had heard from his father that it was best not to pass down wands between families, but some had to if they were poor. Finn was glad he had his own, and he could tell Charlie was proud as well.

"This is mine," he said excitedly, "I only got it just yesterday. It's elm, with phoenix feather. Dad says that means I'm going to be one of the best spell casters when I get older. Elm's supposed to be the best for really advanced spells. Not that I know anything good yet," he added slightly solemnly.

Finn stared at how sleek it was, suddenly excited to take his own wand back out of his trunk. He immediately jumped to his feet and climbed up on the seat to open his trunk on top of the luggage rack. When he found the long box, he tipped it open and pulled out his black wand, jumping back down from the seat and turning to show Charlie.

"Wow," the other boy breathed. "What is that?"

"Ebony," Finn said proudly, "With dragon heartstring."

"Boy, was I wrong," Charlie said in a low voice, "You know ebony wands are rare, right? But some of the best for transfiguration, like I said, just like mahogany. Have you tried it out, yet?"

"Well, not exactly. It did make some smoke in the shop, though."

"Everyone's does something different," Charlie nodded, giving his a small wave with a smile. A series of small reddish sparkles came from the tip of his wand, translucent like the rubies of a ghost, in a crystalline haze. They swirled into a small cloud before floating to the top of the car and disappearing. "That's what mine did." Charlie grinned and looked expectantly at Finn. "What about yours?"

Shrugging, Finn gave his wand the same circular flick that he had remembered doing in the shop, and watched as the gold and silver trails of smoke twisted around him again, bending into wisps as they disappeared.

"Wow," Charlie said again. Then without a beat, he began rambling excitedly. "Have you read anything about the spells we'll learn as fifth years? I can't wait, I heard about this one that can blast through a steel door, can you believe that?"

Finn listened to Charlie rant about everything he couldn't wait to learn as the train trudged its way down the long track, taking them closer and closer to Hogwarts. While he settled into his seat and started to tell stories of his own, he began to lose some of the anxiety he had thought might overtake him. He had already made a friend, and that was enough for him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

By the time the sun had set and rumor spread through the train that they were close to Hogwarts, Finn and Charlie rummaged through their trunks to find their uniforms. When everything was packed again as it had been, they heard the bustling of other students as the train came to a screeching halt, billowing its loud horn and hissing steam.

Finn stood for a few moments and looked down at himself in his uniform, pulling on his robes. He looked over at Charlie, who adjusted his glasses and then straightened up. They heard the car creak as other students began to exit the train. Loud thuds and clunks were made as trunks were moved around and dropped.

The two boys gathered their things and made their way to exit the train, lugging their trunks, and Finn wrestled to keep a hold on his owl's cage. They staggered down the steps as they heard a loud and gruff voice shouting for the first years.

"Over here, if ye please! Firs' years, come on!"

Spotting the large stack of trunks on the side of the platform, Charlie and Finn exchanged glances and decidedly left their things. Finn spotted Talon, awake finally, in a small wooden handled cage. His glowing yellow eyes watched them as he made a small _mew_ after Charlie, who scratched his head with a finger as they followed the giant figure calling for them.

"Follow me, now! This way, firs' years!"

"Where are we going?" Charlie asked.

"To the lake," Finn guessed, "Dad said the first years always take the boats to the castle."

"Boats?" Charlie stammered. He looked over at Finn as they walked, his face suddenly paler. Finn quirked an eyebrow.

"What?"

"All right, four t' a boat, now. Hurry up! Don' wanna miss th' feast, do ye?"

Charlie began to tremble as Finn stepped cautiously to the edge of the boat and climbed in. He wobbled for a second before sitting down. Another boy shuffled in behind him, but Charlie didn't move.

"Charlie!" Finn said urgently, afraid his friend wouldn't be allowed to get on if another student came around. "Come on, what's the matter?"

"Afraid of the water?" the other boy said with a snicker. Finn instantly lowered his eyebrows at the other student. His snarky demeanor was immediately disliked.

"Come on, Charlie, just get in!"

"But - " the boy stammered, his hands shaking. A shorter girl, staring at her feet carefully, climbed in and sat next to the boy in front of Finn.

"CHARLIE!" Finn practically shouted.

"Come on, son, nothin' t' be afraid of. There ye go," the large figure said. Finn watched with his mouth hanging open as the giant man lifted Charlie as quick as you please with one hand by the back of his robes and gently sat him next to Finn. Charlie nearly let out a whimper as he fell against Finn's shoulder. The darker haired boy shrugged him back to sit up straight and the hulking figure looked around with a huge lantern he held in his hand.

"All set? Right then, we're off!"

Finn barely caught a glimpse of the man as he disappeared into his own boat, and he felt the wooden planks under his feet give a shudder. With a split second lurch, the boat turned around and began gliding along the water of its own accord.

Finn glanced at the boy that had made the remark about Charlie and then tore his eyes away. Whoever he was, he was staring intently at the sky, his icy blue eyes unnerving the other two. Charlie was so focused on the bottom of the boat that he was like a shaking stone. Without warning, Finn felt a sharp squeezing pain in his fingers, and realized Charlie had grabbed his hand out of instinct, and when his friend looked over, Charlie's eyes were scrunched shut so tightly that Finn could hardly see the slits they made.

Looking off across the lake, Finn forced himself to squeeze back, trying to ignore the numbness that was starting in his fingers. He heard a snicker come from the other boy, who had his arm propped on the side of the boat, observing Charlie as though he were a crying toddler. Finn felt slightly awkward that he was Charlie's only friend in such a situation, but decided to be as loyal as he could in such a capacity.

The trip finally ended and the scowling boy immediately jumped off of the boat with an agile leap, strutting off after the rest of the students as Finn watched the girl across from him carefully climb out. He looked over at Charlie and tried to tug on his hand.

"Charlie?"

The other boy merely shook his head and Finn watched as the crowd of students grew larger as they exited the boats, and followed the hulking figure as it led them into a courtyard far off. Finn found his way to stand up as the boat wobbled unsteadily, and Charlie's other arm flew out and clutched onto his.

"Charlie, you have to get up," Finn said, raising his eyebrows, "We're going to lose everyone."

He waited for a few seconds before trying to tug on Charlie's arm again, with no response. He looked over at the disappearing group of students, and a deep fear began to well in his stomach. If he lost them, he had no idea what to do. Would they even realize the two of them were gone? It's not like they had taken attendance when they had arrived.

"Come on, Charlie." Finn stepped over the side of the boat and onto the flat ground, feeling thankful himself that they would no longer be in the water. His arm stretched out to the side and Charlie continued to hold it firmly. He sighed, still unsure of what to do, and one more glance at the disappearing students made him panic.

"_Charlie_," he said loudly. The boy whined as the boat jerked from Finn tugging on him. The darker haired boy reached into the boat and put his left arm under Charlie's. He pulled as best as he could, not having very much strength to begin with. He guess that panicking from being left behind was enough adrenaline to move his friend, because he was able to lift him enough to topple out of the boat.

The water splashed against the boat as it flipped slightly and Charlie fell into a limp heap onto the ground. He was lying on top of Finn's legs, and he couldn't stand back up. He tried to back out from under Charlie's weight, but didn't make much progress.

"Charlie, you're off the boat," he managed to say. The other boy barely opened one eye from behind his crooked glasses, his face sideways on the ground. He looked around wildly until Finn moved his leg. His knee dug into Charlie's side and the other boy rolled over from the pain.

"Come on, they're leaving without us!" he said hurriedly, pushing off of the ground and helping Charlie up.

"But - "

"Come ON!" he nearly yelled, yanking on Charlie's wrist. The poor boy's legs felt like jelly as he tried to keep up with Finn, and thankfully they caught up to the group just as they reached the entrance to the enormous castle before them. When Finn stopped behind one of the last students, he looked over and saw Charlie wiping his sleeves over his entire face, trying to erase the layer of sweat that had gathered there. Whether this was from his fear on the boat or his attempts to run, Finn wasn't sure.

The hulking figure stood beside the entrance to the castle with his lantern, looking over them all as they entered. The front of the group continued to walk, led by some new stranger that the boys couldn't see due to all of the heads blocking their view.

"Good luck," the deep gruff voice of the giant man said to them all. "All yours, Argus." Finn watched him until the doors of the castle closed and the followed their leader up the staircase.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Whoever Argus was, they were leading them down a wide hall until stopping outside of two giant inner doors.

"All right," said a quiet and scratchy voice that seemed like it was trying to be louder than it could. "Normally I ain't the one bringing you in, but listen up anyways. This is the first year here at Hogwarts for the lot of you, and before you can sit down and eat, you've got to be Sorted."

"We all know that part," a familiar snobby voice interrupted loudly.

"Well, some of you _don't_, so I suggest you keep your trap _shut_ and let me _finish_," the scratchy voice snapped back. Finn hid a smile, knowing which boy it was that had just been told off.

"There are four houses here in Hogwarts, and the lot of you will be Sorted accordingly. You'll be livin' with that house while you stay here, and the better you do here, the more points you can earn for your house towards winning the House Cup at the end of the year. So don't lark about the halls, breakin' rules, or you'll get those points taken back, y'hear?"

There was a silent nod and a few gulps and the new students glanced nervously at each other. Finn felt that this wasn't a very heartwarming welcome into the castle, but he tried to assume whoever this old Argus was, he was doing his best. He wished he could at least see the owner of such a terrifying voice, hoping he wasn't as Finn was imagining right now.

"As a Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, or Slytherin, you're expected to be good respectable students, and not cause trouble. And as Caretaker, it's my job to watch and make sure you do just that. Now, the ceremony for Sorting will begin shortly, so everyone get in line while I'm gone."

Finn caught one of the large doors cracking open and then shutting as Argus disappeared. He looked at Charlie, who shrugged and let out a held breath.

"How are you?" Finn asked quietly.

"Not really in the mood for eating," Charlie admitted, putting a hand gingerly on his stomach. "I'm surprised I didn't barf all over the boat."

"I think you did great," Finn said assuredly, unable to think of what else to say. He hoped it was the right thing. Charlie gave him an embarrassed smile, but it faded quickly as he looked away. Finn saw absolutely nothing wrong with being afraid of water, but he guessed it was something Charlie was uncomfortable with admitting. He dropped the subject as a slew of muttering went about the group of students as they all shuffled to form a line.

By the time they had all settled into place, Argus had appeared again and opened both of the large doors, leading them into the next enormous room.

Finn's eyes went straight to the ceiling and his mouth fell open. There were swirls of stars directly above their heads in velvety mixes of navy and black, looking like the very night sky itself.

"Wow," Charlie whispered, and Finn could only nod with an astounded grin on his face. He heard the whispers of more students around him as they passed between two enormously long tables lined with older students. They all talked amongst themselves as the youngest walked down the aisle and finally came to a halt in front of another long table horizontal across the room, where all of the teachers sat. They lined in front of it until they faced all of the students in the room, and Finn's feet went numb as Charlie swallowed dryly.

The sheer number of faces staring at them all was enough to make Finn want to faint, but he instead focused on a lanky old man who came shuffling across in front of them with a short stool, and placed a large tattered hat on top of it. Juggling the stool until it sat still, the man took a large rolled up scroll from under his arm and cleared his throat loudly, stepping back and bit and waiting.

Finn stared at the hat, and watched as it gave a small twitch, as though shaking itself off. A large rip above the brim opened wide, and the next thing that happened nearly made his own mouth drop open. The hat began to sing, and although the lyrics sounded like pure nonsense, it was one of the most wonderful things he had ever heard. It called itself the Sorting Hat, and went on about the four houses of Hogwarts and their great founders, but also the many students that had come and gone from the school. It sounded mocking, but kind, to the future of them all, and then the song was over. There was roaring applause all throughout the hall and Charlie grinned, clapping along with the rest as Finn found himself clapping as well.

"Brilliant," Charlie laughed.

"Does it do that every year?" Finn wondered, seeing as none of the other students in the hall seemed shocked by its feat.

"Now, I'll be callin' your names, and you'll come forward, and the hat will sort you into your new house."

Finn realized the voice was Argus, and matched it to the lanky and grizzled man with the scroll as he unrolled it. There was a large gray and black cat twisting about his feet, watching the students with glowing eyes like a hawk's, only instead they were lit with a ruby red tint. Finn felt unnerved by the stare, but heard a name echo around them and decided to focus instead on the stool with the Sorting Hat.

He heard several names he knew he wouldn't recognize for what felt like an eternity. It went from Adamson to Bartlett, and from Colville to Dufriense. After they called Elwyn, there was a Findler, until finally, "Grisham, Charles."

Finn looked at Charlie, who stood up stiffly and took a jerky step forward. Finn gave him a small push with his palm, and the spectacled boy sat down gently on the stool as Argus put the hat on his head. There was a moment's pause, and Finn watched Charlie's face scrunch for one moment. After another pause, the hat shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Charlie's body nearly melted into the stool and Argus took the hat from his head. The long table that had cheered for him welcomed him loudly, pulling him into a seat right next to the boy called Elwin. Finn couldn't remember his first name, but begged silently to himself that he would be picked to sit next to the only friend he had made. He began to panic that he would end up in a house entirely of strangers, and they would not welcome him as Gryffindor had Charlie.

Argus went down the list steadily. Finn began to assess the tables of students after a McCormick was called. He could only catch the appearances of two of the teachers from where he stood, and then looked back over the crowd of students. The table he was most intimidated by was occupied by Slytherin, as they all seemed to glower as the first years were sorted, until one finally came to their table. He hoped most of all that he didn't end up at their table.

"Rowland, Finneus."

There were a couple snickers from the first years at Finn's first name, the loudest from the boy he had been glaring at earlier from the boat. He ignored them and stepped slowly towards the stool, trying not to collapse, as his legs were now the ones that felt like jelly.

He felt the soft weight of the hat on his head as it nearly dropped over his eyes. He could just see the edges of the tables as the brim slid down, and he heard a voice whisper to him. He nearly jumped.

"A curious lad, m'yes. Much fear in your heart. Exactly what are you afraid of at such a young age?"

Finn swallowed dryly as he realized how panicked he was that he might not end up where he wanted. But where exactly was that?

"So much indecision, but a big heart. Loyalty to family, I see," the hat continued, as Finn's thoughts strayed to what his family would think of him if he was placed somewhere they disapproved of. "Very loyal. I see, I know where to put you now."

Finn squeezed the sides of the stool and heard the hat shout, "GRYFFINDOR!"

He felt his body loosen as quickly as he had seen Charlie's, and met the eyes of his friend as the hat was pulled from his head. The blonde boy cheered along with the rest of the Gryffindors' table. He hurried down to them and sat next to the girl, McCormick, who had been called earlier, which placed him across the table from Charlie.

"What a rush, huh?" the girl asked with an excited breath.

"I thought I was going to faint," Finn admitted.

"Same here," Charlie laughed, "But we made it, right?"

"Yeah." Finn couldn't keep himself from grinning as he sat and felt the wonderful sensations of sitting at the table, looking back at the slowly shrinking group of first years that had yet to be sorted. He looked at all of the teachers behind them, wondering who taught what, when he saw the taller boy with the snarky face walked up to the stool after Argus called, "Saxon, Loki!"

"Loki? What kind of a name is _Loki_?" Finn scoffed, propping his arm on the table in front of his plate.

"SLYTHERIN!" the Sorting Hat shouted not ten seconds later.

"Well, there you go," Charlie muttered.

While the rest of the students dwindled into their new houses, Finn watched Argus lift up the Sorting Hat and the stool, and disappear with them. As he did, one of teachers that sat in the very middle of the long table at the front got to her feet.

She was tall and thin, and donned a magnificently pointed hat, along with an emerald colored robe.

"Welcome to Hogwarts, first years, and welcome back to the rest of you. For those of you just arriving, I am Professor McGonagall, Headmistress. I'd like to thank Mr. Filch, our Caretaker, for taking care of those of you arriving, as well as Professor Hagrid."

There was a round of applause as Finn spotted Argus, who was apparently also this "Mr. Filch", standing now at the two large doors that was the entrance to the great room. The hulking figure named Hagrid was now sitting towards the left of the teachers' table, and Finn hadn't noticed his arrival. He wondered what on earth such a large man could possibly teach in a classroom.

"A few announcements before we begin our feast. As the rest of you are well aware, first and foremost, the Forbidden Forest on the edge of the Hogwarts grounds is strictly forbidden to all students, and I caution you all not to test such a rule. Second, we have a new professor this year. Oliver Wood, returning Alumni, will be taking the place of Madam Hooch as our Flying teacher. Welcome back, professor."

There was a loud roar of applause as a tall, well-built man in a sleek blue robe stood up at the teacher's table and gave a small bow and a wave.

"Oliver Wood? As in _Puddlemere United_ Oliver Wood?" the young Elwyn boy said in surprise beside Charlie.

"I suppose so," the girl next to Finn shrugged, clapping with the rest of them as McGonagall quieted them all.

"I never thought _he'd_ leave the team to be a _teacher_," the boy went on.

"He got injured during the last World Cup," Charlie said matter-of-factly, "You don't remember that?"

Finn was confused as the conversation went on, but they hushed quickly as the Headmistress went on speaking.

"And third," she continued at last, "I will remind all first years that you are _not_ permitted to try out for Quidditch teams this year, _despite_ any talents you may possess, however you are welcome to when you return _next year_." She seemed to turn her head slightly towards Professor Wood as she said this, and he looked away with raised eyebrows.

"With that said, let the feast begin!" she said with a merry smile. She seemed kind enough to Finn, although her eyes reminded him of a cat's, seeming to be able to watch all of them at once without missing a single student.

The second he looked down, there was steaming food before him in portions he had never dreamed of, and Charlie was already digging into a giant bowl of buttery mashed potatoes.

"I thought you weren't hungry," Finn said slyly, gingerly grabbing a hot piece of corn on the cob from a plate beside the potatoes.

"Did I say that?" Charlie asked curiously, his mouth full of green beans.

Finn laughed and the girl beside him reached over his plate for a bowl of biscuits that was beside him. He leaned out of the way and handed her the plate.

"Sorry," she apologized, "I'm Rebecca, by the way. Rebecca McCormick." She shook his hand from under the plate and he smiled.

"I'm Finn. And this is Charlie," he added, gesturing at Charlie, who pushed his glasses up his nose as he swallowed his mouthful of beans.

"Charlie Grisham," he said, reaching over to shake her hand. She looked at the other first year beside him and offered her hand. He glanced at it judgingly. After a pause, he shrugged and smiled, shaking it graciously.

"Rhys Elwyn, nice to meet you," he said, taking a drink of pumpkin juice from the cup next to his plate.

As everyone began to introduce themselves as far as they could reach and talk down the table over the already enormous clamor. Finn filled his stomach to the brim and more, until he felt he was ready faint from a food coma. And just when he thought he couldn't eat another bite, the scraps of their dinner disappeared, and was replaced with dessert.

"This just gets better and better," Rhys said, raising his eyebrows at Charlie, who smiled at Finn.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

The moving staircases of the castle boggled the minds of the new first years as the prefects from the Gryffindor house led them to the common room. They went up a couple of staircases, had to wait until one moved for them, and then came down a hall and stopped at a tall painting of a woman in a beautiful pink dress.

"Password?" she asked, glancing down at them.

"Tempus fugit," the prefect said confidently. The lady gave them another glance and waved her hand. The portrait swung forward and Finn stared around the other students at a large hole in the wall.

Everyone clambered through it until they stood in the center of a large room with several sofas and chairs before an enormous fireplace that kept the room at just the right warmth. Finn could see himself falling asleep in front of it exactly at the moment, feeling so full that he could barely walk.

"This is the Gryffindor common room. Make sure not to forget the password," one of the prefects, the girl, said firmly, "Girls follow me and I'll lead you upstairs to your dormitory."

"Boys, follow me," the other prefect said. Finn and Charlie said goodnight to Rebecca, and Rhys followed them as the prefect led them towards the staircase.

When they finally arrived in their dormitory, Finn found his trunk already sitting beside a bed, along with his owl and the cage, sitting on his nightstand and calm as ever.

"Talon!" Charlie said happily, picking up the small cage that housed his pet.

"All of your belongings should be accounted for," the boy said, almost professionally. "Since I'm in charge of you lot for the next week or so, if you have any questions, you ask me."

"What's your name?" Rhys asked obviously. The boy stared at him before answering.

"Stephens. Artie Stephens. Just ask for me."

"All right. Thanks, Artie," Finn said tiredly with a small wave. The prefect closed the door and Charlie looked over at Finn, Talon in his arms, making a loud _whir_ sound that Finn assumed was purring. He sat down on the bed and cradled the black kitten in his arms, staring at the blankets beneath him as he rocked back and forth.

"Not as soft as my bed at home," he said with a shrug, looking at Finn, who also sat on his bed.

"I suppose we should get some sleep then," the darker haired boy said, kicking his feet back and forth lightly as he stared around. The two of them looked over at Rhys and the other boys, who were already somehow in their pajamas and getting into bed. Charlie glanced at Finn and raised his eyebrows.

"You should let your owl out," Charlie offered. Whether this was out of concern for the owl, or just to see the bird up close, Finn didn't know. He bet on the latter to himself. "Let him fly around outside tonight. I bet he's itching for a hunt," he added with a smile at Finn's friend in the cage.

"Don't you dare let that thing out in here!" Rhys said immediately, still holding his blanket up as he was about to lie down. The two boys stared at him, dumbfounded.

"Why not?" Finn asked.

"Just - don't," Rhys said in a huff, lying down and rolling so his back was towards them. After a second, they saw the blanket rise over his head and tuck in tightly. When Charlie turned his head back around, he raised his eyebrows with a silent whistle. Finn rolled his eyes and bent down regardless, opening the metal cage door and holding out his arm.

The owl clicked his beak and stretched out his long talons, climbing gently onto Finn and settling there after ruffling his wings. Charlie went over to one of the windows and pushed it open with a small grunt. As Finn approached, the owl seemed to grow anxious for a flight.

"It's okay, he'll probably come back in the morning," Charlie reassured, noticing the sad look on Finn's face at separating from the bird. "Besides, the owlery here is huge. I'm sure he'll have a great time."

"Yeah," Finn smiled. "I just wish I knew what to call him, at least."

"You haven't named him yet?" Charlie asked, almost astounded.

"I couldn't think of anything good enough."

The owl scooted down Finn's arm until it ached, and with a lurch, it kicked off from his wrist and nearly plummeted out of the sky. Finn blinked in shock and then watched the beautiful array of black and gray feathers float up and disappear easily into the night.

"Wow," Charlie whispered. After a pause, Finn closed the window and Charlie continued. "I can't believe you haven't given him a name yet. Have you thought of one at all?"

"I don't know," Finn shrugged, taking off his robes and looking through his trunk for his pajamas. "What would you name an owl if you had one?"

"Tenley," he answered immediately, picking up Talon and moving him to his pillow so he could sit down and take off his shoes.

"Tenley?" Finn repeated. He quirked an eyebrow at the name, but figured it could work for something like an owl. Personally, he saw it as a fitting name for another cat. "Hm."

"You should name him Tenley. When I wanted an owl, I wanted a big Eagle Owl. I love them. And this one time I saw one in the shop, and he was black and copper, and I told mum I wanted him, but we couldn't get him because - "

"Some of us are _trying_ to sleep," they heard an irritated voice float from one of the beds. Whether it had been Rhys or another, Finn wasn't sure. Charlie instead lowered his voice and kept talking.

The two continued whispering to each other even as they changed and got into bed, staring at each other from under the covers and muttering excitedly about which class they were more anxious for. One of the other boys got in on the conversation once or twice before Rhys finally asked them all to "_kindly_ shut up" and tossed a pillow in Charlie's direction.

When Finn finally yawned so wide that he felt he had no air left in his lungs, he pulled the warm blankets up to his chin and settled into his own pillow as Charlie tossed the other back at Rhys.

The last thing Finn remembered before slumber finally came upon him was the decision to name his owl Tenley, and thank Charlie about it in the morning.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

The next morning, after exhaustedly dressing themselves and finding their way out of the Gryffindor common room, Finn and Charlie, joined by Rhys and another boy from their dormitory, made their way through the hallways of the castle towards the Great Hall. They had been informed that breakfast was to start at eight o'clock sharp. Seeing Rhys yawning extensively, Finn and Charlie both apologized as they walked, and he insisted it was no problem. He admitted to wanting to be in on their conversations, but was too shy and tired to ask.

As they carried on their chat, they entered the Great Hall to the delicious smells of breakfast. The thick scent of cinnamon was so strong that Finn nearly wanted to faint from the imagination of what could have made such a delicious smell.

"Here's a spot," Rhys said eagerly, as they found a few spaces between already dining students. They sat down in front of their empty plates and started loading what they could.

"This tart is fantastic," Charlie said with a heavenly face. He held out a piece to Finn, who took it curiously before popping it in his mouth. He also offered some to Rhys, who gladly tried it.

While they ate their breakfast, Finn noticed his stomach trembling slightly at the thought of starting classes so soon. He had wished the students had been given a time to adjust to the castle before sending them straight off to classes, but he knew there was nothing to be done about it. Instead, he ate his food as best he could before he felt too nervous to continue. He took a small drink of milk from his goblet and then sat back on the bench.

Not a minute later, Charlie looked up with a mouthful of bacon and exclaimed at the swarm of owls that had just made their way through the windows towards the ceiling of the Great Hall. Finn had never seen so many owls in his life, and they were all clutching packages and letters of all shapes and sizes. He watched as Charlie swallowed his food excitedly and looked around with wild eyes. He grinned at his friend before looking over at Rhys and noticing the poor boy frozen in terror as he stared overhead.

"Rhys?"

Within a moment, the boy had shrunk into his seat, and before the owls had finished delivering their mail, he was practically under the table. A large tawny owl fluttered in front of Charlie's face, dropping a small package with a letter tied to the top. Finn spotted Twilight, his family's owl, as he flew at him, holding a letter and a package just a bit larger than Charlie's. After the last of the large birds had disappeared, and Finn had scratched Twilight fondly on the head, Rhys peeked out from under the table.

"They're gone," Charlie offered with raised eyebrows. One of the other boys from their dormitory helped Rhys back into his seat and they saw how pale his face had been before the color started returning to his cheeks.

"Don't like owls, huh?" Charlie asked.

"Hate them," Rhys muttered. The two boys stared at each other oddly for a moment before Rhys noticed a letter that had landed on his plate of toast. "Oh, hey."

"Chocolate frogs!" Charlie exclaimed excitedly, opening his package. "Yes!"

"You a collector?" one of the other boys asked, suddenly interested.

"You bet," he said proudly, "Going on three hundred with this lot."

"I've got four hundred at home," the other boy nodded.

As Charlie continued his conversation with the other boy, Finn untied his letter from his parents and read it fondly before opening his package.

"What is that?" Rhys asked, looking over from his letter as Finn peeled the paper from his package off and opened the box. What fell into his palm was golden and circular.

"It's an astrolabe," Finn explained, "I've seen my mum use it before. She says she wants me to have one for Astronomy."

"But we don't need one," the other boy said, confused.

"I know. But she's taught me a lot about the sky, and I asked her for one when I was little just to play with," he recalled, smiling as he turned the golden object over in his fingers. "She always remembers."

"Do you mind if I sit here?" a small voice asked. Finn barely hear it, but turned around just the same and saw the girl from the night before with a sheepish smile on her face.

"You're late, McCormick," Charlie said with a surprised look.

"I got lost," she muttered, sitting on Finn's other side as Charlie smiled and rolled his eyes, going back to talking to his new friend. He had opened one of the chocolate frogs and was perusing the card.

Finn offered her some toast and carefully put his new astrolabe into its box and put it into his bag at his feet, along with the letter. He reminded himself to send them one tonight, after finding out how to get to the owlery. The thought quickly escaped him as he decided to ask Charlie what their first class was supposed to be.

"Potions," he said with a gleeful eye. Finn nodded to himself as Rhys tucked his letter into his own bag and kept eating. Out of curiosity, Finn leaned in out of earshot of Charlie.

"Why are you afraid of owls, Rhys?"

"They bite," he said simply with a grumpy face, shoving a forkful of eggs into his mouth.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

After Finn ushered Rebecca McCormick to finish her breakfast, the pack of first years headed off to their first class, which felt like centuries to get to. It was all the way down in the dungeons of the castle, and Finn already hated it.

The temperature seemed to drop twenty degrees as they neared the classroom. After double checking that they were headed to the right class, they all piled in after a group of Hufflepuffs and struggled to find seating close to each other. Finn heard Rhys muttered "_Oliver_ Grisham" in a surprised undertone to Charlie as they sat down.

Finn pulled out his brand new copy of _Magical Draughts and Potions_ and glanced over at Charlie, who was clutching his worn out version that Finn suspected had seen more than its share of previous owners. The hushed conversations continued, and Finn smiled at Rebecca, who looked as nervous as he felt.

A door towards the front of the classroom opened quietly, and many of the students barely noticed. It was only until the teacher tapped his wand on a large cauldron at the front of the classroom that they all looked up and became hushed. The teacher that stood staring down at them seemed unnaturally tall to the young students, and his deep and dark eyes seemed to stare at them each in turn from behind a pair of square spectacles.

"Welcome to Potions," he said with a stern tone, his face relaxing ever so slightly, but still more of a scowl than ever, "My name is Isaac Wesley. You will address me as Professor Wesley, or sir. This term I will teach you the very basics of the art of potion making as to prepare you for their dangers, uses, and advantages out in the wizarding world. Any questions?"

There was a ringing silence that fell over the students.

"Right then. Now, let's start off with a little trivia to see what you know. You, stand." He pointed his wand at Charlie, who Finn could tell was nearly ready to leap out of his seat.

"What's your name, boy?"

"Grisham, sir." Charlie cleared his throat and prepared to speak louder.

"Tell me one of the most common dangers of brewing a potion incorrectly." He crossed his arms and came around the front of the large desk, leaning against it.

"Um," Charlie said, clearing his throat again, "Burns."

Twirling his wand in an expectant gesture, the teacher added, "More specifically?"

"Mixing improper ingredients can cause unnatural acids to occur, which can burn the skin and possibly melt through metals cauldrons, especially pewter."

"Very good. Five points to Gryffindor. You," he said, now pointing at a Slytherin across the room. "Name?"

"Saxon, sir."

Finn looked over and saw the boy from the Sorting Ceremony and nearly rolled his eyes. Even when answering a teacher, he sounded snobby.

"Tell me the difference between a concoction and a brew."

"A concoction is a mixture of dry ingredients, sir, while a brew is a liquid mixture."

"Five points to Slytherin. Well done," Professor Wesley nodded as the Saxon boy sat down with a smirk. Next, he pointed at a Hufflepuff, who stood and nervously played with her fingers. "Your name, girl?"

"Findler, sir." Her voice sounded even, but her demeanor was mildly anxious.

"Give me the three common ways of brewing."

She thought for a moment before clearing her throat again. "Soaking, boiling - and steeping," she said finally, the last one barely rolling off her tongue.

"Well done, Ms. Findler. Five points to Hufflepuff. Next," he said, as Finn tried to catch the face of the student in the Ravenclaw uniform he had asked to stand. "And your name, miss?"

"Harrington," she said casually.

"Can you give me one of the base ingredients to a standard antidote?"

"A bezoar," she said almost immediately, "They're used in all antidotes, as they are the most common ingredient with the property to flush out toxins. Also, in a dire emergency, one can simply swallow a bezoar to negate the effects of a poison if no prepared antidote is present."

"Excellent, ten points to Ravenclaw for the brilliant addition to your answer as well," he said with a small flick of a smile. "That's definitely a topic we'll be studying today. Now, the first thing you'll want to know in potion making is how to brew the _simplest_ of antidotes, as they can be the most useful potions in your cupboards, and in addition to this, a bezoar can be the most essential ingredient you will ever work with. Today, I will be teaching you the proper ways to prepare a bezoar for such potions, so - "

"Sir."

The professor paused as he was about to turn around and his eyes focused on Rhys, who had his hand raised. Charlie exchanged glances with Finn before they both stared at him curiously.

"Yes?"

"Couldn't you also use Mandrake and Honeywater as a substitute to a bezoar in such potions?"

The class slowly turned to stare at him altogether and the teacher crossed his arms again.

"And what makes you say that?"

"Well, in Oliver Grisham's _Alternatives to Common Draughts and Elixirs_, he says that in the absence of a bezoar, Mandrake and Honeywater mixed as a concoction before added to a brew can be just as effective of an antidote, if not more so."

Charlie glanced at Finn with a small smile at the recognition of his father's name.

"What's your name, boy?"

"Elwyn, sir," Rhys said, becoming standoffish at the professor's tone, which had turned skeptical.

"Well, _Mr. Elwyn_, I see no need to revert to such _alternatives_ when brewing a simple antidote in the First Year Potions course. Furthermore, a bezoar has far more magical properties as an antidote than Mandrake."

"But when mixed with Honeywater, Mandrake gains similar properties, so it could be used just the same, am I wrong?"

"Have you ever seen an antidote with such substituted ingredients administered to someone under the effects of a poison?" Professor Wesley interrupted.

"No, but - "

"So you would agree, then, that you are hardly qualified to make such a claim in this matter?"

"Well - "

"In any sense, are you _capable_ of brewing such an antidote with the alternative ingredients, in this _highly advanced_ Potions class, Mr. Elwyn? When I assume you've _clearly_ had the practice to work with such a simple and common ingredient as a bezoar? I have yet to even teach you the basics of how to brew such a potion, seeing as you've interrupted me in the middle of that precise lesson on your _first day_."

Finn felt his stomach sink as he watched Rhys's ears turn red and he swallowed roughly. He remained quiet at the question.

"Well?" the teacher continued.

"No, _sir_," he answered through clenched teeth.

Professor Wesley tucked his wand into his robes and stepped over towards Rhys, his stride even and calm. He nearly leaned into Rhys's face. He stood up straight and stared down at the boy, who was clenching his fists under the embarrassment, but his gaze was just as calm and collected, despite the fading red tint on his ears.

"Do you even know the proper ratio for such ingredients to be used, Mr. Elwyn?"

"No, sir," Rhys repeated.

"Very well, then. I suggest you sit down and let me continue the lesson, with the _simple_ task of studying a _bezoar_ and its _properties_."

Rhys sat back down in his seat and continued to stare fervently into the teacher's eyes. Finn felt like time had stopped in the classroom until the teacher finally turned back around and continued to speak as he headed back towards his desk at the front of the room.

"Now, although I do greatly respect the research and practices of Mr. Oliver Grisham, we will not be studying any of his lessons at the _present_ _time_," Professor Wesley said, looking back at Rhys, who had relaxed in his seat like nothing had happened, and was scratching his dry quill on the edge of his parchment. "So, if you would all open your books to the first chapter, we can start the lesson over."

There was a bustle about the classroom as pages were flipped and everyone readied their quills for note-taking.

"And Mr. Elywn," Professor Wesley added, taking his place at the edge of an enormous chalkboard before he began to write. "See me after the lesson."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

By the time their first Potions lesson was over, and Finn was packing up his things, he had come to one realization. He was awful at it.

He had constantly asked Charlie for help during the entire class as they took notes on the properties of common ingredients such as different flowers, essences, and beans. They took few notes on insects and roots, as they were to be covered in the next chapter, but Finn struggled to remember anything Professor Wesley explained as he drew outlines on the chalkboard.

"You'll get the hang of it," Rebecca assured him as they stepped out with the other students. Charlie looked over at Rhys, who was silently fuming to himself.

"Detention," he exclaimed, "That's ridiculous!"

"Well, you did sort of talk back to him," Rebecca muttered, but Finn was positive he had been the only one to hear her.

"On my first day! How _dare_ he do this to me!"

"It's not like it's the end of the world, mate," Charlie assured, "It's only one detention, right?"

Rhys continued to grumble things to himself as Rebecca reminded them they were to head to the greenhouses. Finn realized that if Herbology was next, he was probably doomed. He had a hard enough time remembering magical properties of plants in Potions. Now he was going to have to do it in his next class as well.

"I'm going to fail this term for sure," he said, sagging his shoulders.

"It's not so bad," Rebecca said, touching his arm gently before making sure there was enough space between them. He was noticing more and more how much of an anxious girl she was, it was confusing to him. Charlie touched his other arm to get his attention.

"She's right, Finn," he agreed, "Herbology's more than just taking notes. You get to learn how to care for the plants before they're taken in as potion ingredients. It's more about caring for them properly than using them."

"I guess that's not too bad," Finn said, trying to be hopeful. He smiled at Charlie's eyes, which seemed to smile more than the rest of his face when he was happy.

"Nice job on your first day, Elwyn," a snarky voice taunted from behind Finn. He jerked his head over his shoulder as he jumped, accidentally running into Charlie.

"Trying to outsmart the teachers already?" It was Loki Saxon, the boy Finn was quickly discovering he wanted to hit.

"Fuck off, Saxon," Rhys snapped without a pause between them.

The other three widened their eyes and stared at their friend, who was glaring so fiercely at the Slytherin that they were positive sparks would fly from them. The taller boy glowered back at him with an icy blue stare, unwavering, as if to ask how he could possibly dare to speak to him with such language.

"Big words, Elwyn," he said quietly, "Let's see you try them again."

"Leave him alone," Finn insisted immediately. Charlie quickly stepped between the two boys, and the one with the brighter eyes stepped back. He cocked his head, and then turned around, staring at Finn.

"There's no problem with you, _Rowland_," he said, "Why don't you butt out?"

"Because Rhys's business is my business," he answered slowly, trying to sound calm.

"Clearly. Standing in front of your girlfriend?"

"She's not my girlfriend," Finn shot back.

"What's your issue, Saxon? Think one of us pissed in your juice this morning?" Rhys asked. Charlie gave him a warning glance to keep his mouth shut.

"At least I'm smart enough to _not_ outsmart the teacher on my first day. You're such a typical Elwyn."

"Like you know anything about my family," Rhys snapped.

"I know enough about them," he answered, and then turned back to Finn. "You should pick better friends. Two half-bloods and an Auror's son who would do anything to betray the name of wizard? You're on a roll already, aren't you?" When Finn let one tremor go through his body out of intimidation, he watched a small grin spread over the boy's face, and he remembered thinking the oddest thing. _His teeth are evil_.

"Sax!" someone from the end of the hall shouted. The boy looked over and then stepped away from the group.

"A bumbling band like you four has definitely lowered my expectations for this school," he said with a laugh. "It's pathetic." He walked down the hallway with his bag across his chest to meet up with nameless friends and Finn looked at Rhys.

"Blimey," Charlie whistled, "He sure got your robes in a twist."

"What gives, Rhys?" Finn asked, still surprised at the boy's use of language. "And what did he mean, Auror's son betraying the name of wizard?"

"My mum's an Auror," he stated flatly, "Clearly she sent someone away that he disapproves of." Straightening himself up, Rhys started walking towards the edge of the courtyard outside of the hallway. Finn looked at Charlie and then Rebecca.

"My mum's a muggle," Charlie said, already knowing that Finn was going to ask what Saxon meant by half-bloods. When he looked back at Rebecca, she gave a small smile and nodded.

"Mine too. Why was he being so pushy?" she asked Charlie.

"Who knows. Bad family blood. Doesn't matter if you're half-blood, less, or more. Sometimes bad blood never goes away." Charlie looked and Finn, who was staring after Rhys with a worried glance. He didn't understand how someone could get angry so easily, but then again, he had hated this Loki Saxon from the very start.

"Best to stay away from him, then," Finn managed to say.

"Slytherins are always trouble," Charlie insisted, "Try to stay away from all of them, I'd say."

"Agreed," Rebecca said

The three started in the same direction where Rhys had wandered off, and Charlie changed the subject by asking the other two who their Quidditch teams were. While that discussion went on, they neared the greenhouses, and when they entered the first one, Rhys barely spoke a word as they stood next to him, setting their bags at their feet under the long wooden table. There were no stools.

"I heard Professor Longbottom's supposed to be great," Rebecca offered the three boys. When Charlie agreed, they heard a hollow tap on a flower pot and all of the students fell quiet.

"Good morning, first years!" their new professor exclaimed. He was smiling with bright bucked teeth, but looked exhausted. He was covered in bits of dirt and plant from head to toe, especially in his brown hair. He was tall a thin, and his ears seemed larger than normal. "I'm Professor Longbottom, welcome to Greenhouse One. Now, today I had a lesson all planned out for you, but unfortunately, I've got a bit of a slug problem in one of my crops. So, for today, you'll be getting a bit more hands-on than I had planned for this lesson."

Everyone exchanged confused glances and then shrugged.

"Now, how many of you have read through our book for this class?"

There was a murmur of hesitant replies. Professor Longbottom put a soil covered hand to his forehead, smearing a few brown streaks up into his hair, which was also littered with dirt.

"All right. Well, we'll get to that, then. I want everyone to get their wands out. Can I have a few volunteers to help me bring out some of these pots?"

A few students immediately went forward, and Rebecca was one of them. She trotted behind four or five others that disappeared out of the back of the greenhouse, and Finn gave a confused look to Charlie.

"A bit unprepared, don't you think?" he asked, and Finn snickered.

In a line, the teacher and the students came trudging back in with several large planters, and they were set along the large wooden table that ran down the entire span of the greenhouse. They soon disappeared to fetch more, and Charlie gave a short look into one of the planters.

Each of them was populated with an array of indigo colored flowers. Finn found them to be almost beautiful, and went to touch one of the petals with Charlie pulled his hand away.

"Don't touch it," he warned, "That's aconite."

"It's not poisonous to touch," Loki's voice scoffed from across the table.

"It's toxic to any porous skin," Rhys interrupted, "Like _fingers_. Idiot."

Loki actually didn't bother sending a remark his way, instead glowering down at the plant as though it gave off the most horrendous odor. When Professor Longbottom came back in with the rest of the batch, he hurried to the front of the greenhouse with an exhausted breath and spoke as loud as he could.

"All right. Now, since we'll be working with our hands today, I hope everyone brought their gloves. Yes?"

There was an echoing shuffle as everyone dug through their bags for their gloves. Finn was feeling unbearably hot in the humidity of the greenhouse, and was considering taking off his sweater.

"Gloves on? All right. Now, can anyone tell me what plant you're looking at?" The professor pulled on his own gloves although his hands were already covered in dirt, as well as the entire front of his robes.

"Aconite, sir," Loki said immediately, interrupting Rhys and making him tap impatiently on the table. Finn stared with his eyes narrowed as the teacher awarded Slytherin five points.

"Very good. Now, I'm sure many of you are going to learn about the aconite plant in your Potions classes, but you'll hear it from me first, seeing as I've got a little problem."

They all leaned against the table as he continued to speak.

"Aconite, also commonly called monkswood, or the wolfsbane plant, is a very common ingredient in potion making. Can be highly poisonous if not handled properly, which is why I've got you all with your gloves on."

Rhys stuck his tongue out at Loki while the boy wasn't looking, and Finn and Charlie laughed to themselves. Finn was happy to see Rhys finally smile.

"Unfortunately for my stock of aconite here, it slipped my mind to put slug repellant on them last night. So, I'm going to assign jobs to each of you for today, and ten points will go to whichever house finishes their tasks the quickest and most efficiently."

At the mention of a contest, everyone perked up. They all separated into four separate sections of the large table by their houses, and the professor came around with large pots, up to Finn's waist.

"All right, I want a couple of you around the pot, and the rest of you, dig for slugs!" Finn felt that Professor Longbottom said this all a bit to eagerly, but he leaned over the planter just the same. He saw Loki standing beside the large flower pot with his arms crossed, as if digging in dirt was beneath him.

Charlie and another girl from their house stood beside the flower pot and waited for instructions. Finn looked over at Rebecca with a shrug. They both plunged their hands into the cool soil and turned it over in their hands.

As soon as the tasks had begun, there were several squeals from some of the girls as they dropped the slimy creatures onto the floor and wrung their hands about.

"No, not on the floor!" the professor shouted, "In the pot! Throw the slugs into the pots! Quickly, now, come on!"

The other students laughed and giggled while some of them made retching sounds from peeling the slugs off of the floor of the greenhouse and putting them into the large pots. The teacher went around inspecting each pot until a good dozen or so slugs inhabited each one.

"All right, now, those of you not digging, here's your task. And I want you to speak very clearly when you do this, and focus really hard, I don't want you burning down my greenhouses." At the mention of burning, the rest of the students straightened up. "This is why you've got your wands out. Now, watch closely as I do this."

He walked up to the large pot between Charlie and the other girl. He waved his wand just a bit down into the pot and said calmly, "_Incendio_."

A wisp of bright flame twisted from the tip of his wand and incinerated the slugs at the bottom of the flower pot, twisting them into black crisps before they disappeared entirely.

"Got it?" he said, looking at the two who clutched their wands nervously. "It's easy, go on, just try it out. You do it calmly, and think _small_."

Professor Longbottom hurried away to the next group of students to show them the same spell, and Charlie cleared his throat, looking at the other girl. "Well, after you."

Finn watched them for a second before going back to digging his hands into the soil of the planter again. He looked over at Rebecca, who was laughing as she played with a slug that crawled around her glove and onto her wrist.

"They're cute," she said, turning around and showing her new slimy friend to Charlie.

"If you say so," he shrugged, shaking his head with a chuckle.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

The midday sun began to beat down harshly on the greenhouses as Herbology came to an end. After giving all of the planters one more good look, Professor Longbottom awarded the ten points to Ravenclaw. By the time class was over, one of the Hufflepuffs had set his own robe on fire, and one of the Slytherin's had accidentally exploded a slug, rather than burned it. The professor recommended he go to the Hospital Wing if the slime started to burn.

Charlie had been commended for his quick take to learning the Fire-Making Spell. He gained an additional five points to Gryffindor for the most controlled use of it in the class, especially since they were apparently not supposed to start attempting the spell for another two weeks.

Before they started to gather their things and leave, Professor Longbottom reminded them all to read the assigned pages in their books, and he expected a short essay on their contents, as well as another short essay on their activities in the class that day. There was a groan at the mention of homework, but everyone left the classroom in good spirits otherwise.

When Finn finally exited the greenhouse, he took in a deep breath of the outside air, feeling like he had been suffocating in the steaming humidity. By now he had taken off his sweater and shoved it into his bag. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and his forearms were smeared with soil. Charlie had loosened his tie, and Rebecca's strawberry blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail.

"I've got dirt under my fingernails," Charlie said, staring at his hands.

"Me too," Rebecca said with a smile. "Isn't it wonderful?"

"You certainly enjoyed that, didn't you?" he asked with a surprised glance at Finn. "I would expect a girl to hate playing in the dirt."

"Obviously not," she said, turning her nose up proudly.

"Watch out, Charlie, I think we've got a rebel on our hands," Finn laughed. He looked around for Rhys, and noticed he was following a ways behind them, talking to another girl from Hufflepuff. They seemed to be getting along well, so Finn left them alone.

"I'm starved already, is it lunch time, yet?" he said, wiping his forehead.

"Just about," Charlie nodded. "We should get there just in time."

Finn's shoulder jerked forward painfully as someone rammed into him. He watched Loki's oddly streaked hair disappear as he apparently chased after one of his friends, with another couple following behind him. Finn rubbed his shoulder and glared after them before focusing back on lunch.

"I can't believe we have homework on the first day," he added.

"Don't forget about Potions," Charlie reminded.

"I was hoping you would let me," he insisted with a small laugh.

"I'll help you, don't sweat it." Charlie shook his blonde hair with his hand to scatter some loose dirt from it before adjusting his glasses.

They zigzagged through the castle while they made their way to the Great Hall. Charlie and Rebecca squabbled about whether the Holyhead Harpies or Puddlemere United had better Quidditch runs, and Finn rummaged in his book bag for their class schedule. He had already forgotten what class was to take place after lunch.

When he remembered they had Defense Against the Dark Arts, and he had already put his book in his bag, he relaxed and sat down at the Gryffindor table. He spotted Rhys's spiky black hair entering the room after them, still chatting with the girl from Hufflepuff. When he turned back around, Charlie was waving his wand and muttering to himself.

"What are you doing?" he asked, noticing the food on the table and taking a few pieces of chicken.

"Practicing," he shrugged, setting his wand down. "I can't believe I got to learn that spell in my first class!"

"Well, just don't set the common room on fire," Rebecca said, taking a drink from her cup and pulling out her copy of _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_. She began reading the first few pages instantly, and Finn pulled out his Potions assignment, feeling his shoulders sag.

"I bet you that in our seventh year, we're still sitting here studying like this," Charlie guessed with a small laugh.

"That would make things easier," Finn agreed. "At least I'll have someone to do my homework."

He scribbled his notes down as best as he could while they ate, and by the time lunch was over, he had skipped his Potions work and gone straight to Herbology, which was now finished, with some assistance from Rebecca. They tucked their things into their bags and waited for a few minutes. Charlie started explaining to Finn the precise wand movement for the spell Professor Longbottom had taught him.

Before they left the table, Finn attempted the spell on the remains of his lunch, and nearly set his bag ablaze. Charlie clambered to douse the flame with his pumpkin juice, and the three laughed uneasily about it after making sure no one else had seen. Finn slowly put his wand away and they decided to head for their next class.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Finn realized he had eaten far too much food as they walked to their Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. He felt he would faint at any moment as his legs trudged up and down staircases, and it was no mystery to his friends as well that they were definitely going to have stronger legs by the end of the year. He couldn't even imagine how large the castle was.

By the time they reached the doors to the classroom, Finn was out of breath, and Charlie patted him on the back. Rebecca smiled at the both of them as they entered and found the few seats that were left. Charlie and Rebecca sat together at one desk, and Finn was disheartened to find that the only seat left was next to none other than Loki Saxon.

"Is everyone seated?" a loud voice called from somewhere at the front of the classroom. Finn grumbled to himself and sat down at the short table beside the Slytherin boy, taking extra care to sit at the furthest end. Loki glanced at him with his sharp blue eyes before looking away, disinterested. His focus was much more attuned to a desk at the front of the class, where he spotted the back of Rhys's head.

"All right then," came a grunt. There was a creak and a loud slam before a face finally appeared before them, and Finn's first impression was to drop his jaw, as the man's hair was a bright and fiery orange. It seemed unnatural, along with the ghastly scars running down one side of his face. Finn felt rude for staring, but he knew every other student was as well. The marks stretched down below his neck and disappeared into the collar of his robes, and the young boy wondered if he had many others like them.

"Good afternoon, class. I'm your Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, nice to meet you all. As I'm sure most of your professors have done by now, let's start the class off with a little trivia and introduction."

Charlie looked across the short space between his seat and Finn's, and then gave a small shrug, showing his approval of this teacher.

"Now, when I call you, I'll ask you to stand, introduce yourself, and tell me at least one thing you know about the subject to be taught in this class, or thereabouts. I'll start."

Finn heard a low scoff come from Loki and shot him a glare that the other didn't notice.

"My name is Bill Weasely," the teacher said with a smile, twisting his wand in his hand before scratching at his neck. He seemed more laid back than his previous teachers, Finn thought, and he immediately liked the man. However, at the mention of his name, Loki nearly shot up in his chair, his eyes wide but in a narrowing stare. "And one thing I know is how to perform the Wand-Lighting Spell."

Finn leaned forward on the table with his arms crossed as Loki sank into his chair, crossing his arms against his chest.

Professor Weasley pointed the tip of his wand at each student in turn, and as they all stood and introduced themselves, Finn remembered small tidbits of what they said, such as how to counter basic jinxes, which hexes were considered the worst, what beasts were rumored to roam all over the world, and which witches and wizards were considered to be worst users of the Dark Arts.

Charlie stood and said his name aloud. "I'm not sure what to say sir," he said hesitantly, "But can I ask a question instead?"

"Of course. Questions are the best thing a student has to offer, what have you got?"

"Is it true that you were in the Battle of Hogwarts?"

The professor actually smiled and shifted where he stood, raising his eyebrows. "Yes, I was. Can't say I've heard that in quite some time."

"Well, I remember the Weasely name," Charlie admitted.

"A good name to remember," the teacher assured, "And a good part of history to remember as well. What can you tell me about it?"

Charlie hesitated. "Well, I know that it took a long time for the school to be rebuilt. And it was a battle against the Dark Lord Voldemort."

"Indeed, it was, and you'll learn more of it in Professor Binns's class, I'd wager. Tell you what. Give me the name of one witch or wizard that was in that same battle, and I'll give you five points for Gryffindor."

Finn raised his eyebrows at Charlie as the boy pushed his glasses up his nose with a hum, apparently trying to remember. Finn himself knew very little about the battle, so he would have been no help.

"What about Fenrir Greyback?" Loki spoke up with a sneer, "Isn't he the one that gave you those messed up scars on your face?"

Professor Weasley looked over at him, his carefree demeanor fading slightly. Charlie looked over, a little annoyed that he had been interrupted in the middle of his answer.

"Yes, he did," the teacher said with a single nod, "Fenrir Greyback was a Death Eater who attacked me."

"Wasn't Greyback a werewolf?" another student asked, sounding a little wary.

"Yes he was," the teacher said, his face now returning to a smile, "But he was not so when he attacked me."

"So?" Loki snapped.

"When a werewolf that is not transformed attacks a victim, they do not inherit the full trait of the werewolf, therefore during the full moon, they will not transform into the beast as the attacker would. Thankfully, I only obtained these scars instead. So, on my honor," he added, raising his right hand, "You have nothing to fear from me." He smiled and gave Charlie a nod to dismiss his stance. The boy sat down and Rebecca whispered something to him.

"However, you'll learn more about werewolves in your third year. As first years, you're not to learn about magical beasts yet. Consider that a surprise lesson. Now, have I missed anyone?"

The few students left that had not been called upon raised their hands and Professor Weasley continued the introductions. After Loki was asked to stand, the boy merely leaned back in his seat, offered his name, and then said nothing else. Finn stood afterwards, and offered the only topic relevant that he could think of, which involved a boggart that his mother had found in their basement a few years ago. She had only taught him that they were creatures that took the form of what one feared the most, and that was all he could remember.

"All right, all done then? Excellent. Today, we will be learning the Wand-Lighting Spell that I spoke of earlier. Can any of you tell me the incantation to perform this spell?"

"_Lumos_," Rhys answered from the front of the room after raising his hand. The girl from Hufflepuff that sat beside him whispered something and Rhys sat up with a smile.

"Very good, five points to Gryffindor," the teacher smiled. "You'll find this information in section two of the first chapter. Now, if you'll all take out your wands, we'll begin practicing the proper wand movements. Pay attention, everyone. Mr. Saxon, shoes off of the desk, if you please."

As Loki narrowed his eyes and noisily dropped his feet from the top of the desk, he picked up his wand with a scowl and began mimicking the professor's movements. Finn did his best to ignore the sour look and focus on Charlie, whose wand tip flashed like the end of a firefly for just a moment, startling him.

"Well done, Mr. Grisham! On my count again, everyone!" Professor Weasley hurried with a grin.

Finn couldn't help smiling as well. It was clear to him that this man, although scarred and getting along in his years, was still enjoying his work. While the classroom slowly began to flicker with lit wand tips that brightened and dimmed as the students learned, the professor wandered in between the desks, studying everyone's focus and accomplishments.

By the time the class was nearing its end, Finn had felt he had hardly been in the classroom for ten minutes. There was a collective grumble throughout the room as the professor announced the conclusion of the lesson, and Finn put his book back into his bag, tucking his wand into his robes.

"Well done to everyone today, and ten points to Hufflepuff for Ms. Delano's excellent form. Until next week! And don't forget to write a summary on the first chapter, taking extra care for the section on the differentiations of the Wand-Lighting Spell. I suggest you read over the Introduction chapter as well. One roll of parchment due next Monday!"

Finn hurried after Charlie and Rebecca, wondering if Rhys was going to catch up, but instead locked eyes with Loki, who was glaring at him as they exited into the hall.

"What?" the Slytherin growled.

"Nothing," Finn shot back.

"Then get out of my way," he snapped.

"Make me." Finn realized his tough threat had been the worst idea exactly as he said it. He was never one to be overly defensive, but something about this other boy's attitude always made him feel that he needed to put his verbal fists up, just to be ready.

In a swift motion, Loki grabbed a handful of Finn's shirt and slammed him against the stone wall, holding him there until he finished walking by. Finn watched Loki's retreating back as his friends caught up and gathered around him.

"You think maybe you shouldn't provoke him, Finn?" Rebecca offered.

"Ah, leave him alone, he's obviously got a streeler up his bum," Rhys's voice said huffily. Finn straightened his shirt slowly, staring off after the boy now surrounded by his Slytherin friends.

"Dark wizards tend to stay close to each other," Charlie muttered, "He's probably known them since he was a baby, the way his parents must be."

"You make them sound like Death Eaters," Finn said with an uneasy laugh, fixing the strap of his bag as they walked.

"Well, not _them_," Charlie shrugged.

"Just their families," Rhys mumbled, then added with a matter-of-fact tone, "Anyway. I'm going to go meet Anna before my 'detention' with Professor Snark-a-lot. See you guys at dinner?"

"Yeah," Charlie smiled.

"See you later, Rhys," Finn waved as the boy ran back to catch up with his new friend.

"We've got some time before then," Rebecca pointed out, "What should we do?"

"No more walking around." Finn could feel his legs aching as he said it.

"All right. Common room, then?" Charlie gave his suggestion with a shrug.

"It's pretty hot out," Finn added with a thoughtful look, "Say, Charlie, let's go for a swim."

Charlie glared at him. "That's not funny!"

"Oh, come on," Finn insisted.

"What's not funny?" Rebecca stared between the two of them, confused.

"How about a bath then? Just a small one, the water won't even come past your ankles," Finn went on.

"I will set your robes on fire, Finneus Rowland, don't think I won't!" Charlie threatened, pulling out his wand. Finn laughed and started running instantly, and Charlie dropped his bag, sprinting after him. Rebecca stared at the boys as they ran, still utterly confused.

With a sigh, she picked up Charlie's fallen bag and watched the boys chase each other around the courtyard.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Around an hour before dinner was supposed to begin that evening, as Charlie and Finn sat in the common room with Rebecca, Finn remembered he was supposed to head to the owlery to reply to his letter from his parents. He hurriedly pulled out a quill and began writing, and Rebecca spoke up when he finished.

"Finn - I was wondering if you could do me a favor," she started.

"Anything," he insisted, "What is it?" He finished folding his letter and tucked it into his front pocket.

"Well, I didn't get an owl before school started, and I was wondering if you wouldn't mind - "

"Asking Tenley to take a letter for you?" He smiled, and then noticed Charlie with his mouth pressed together tightly. "What?"

"I was going to ask the same thing," he muttered, "I mean, actually, we could just send one of the school's owls, since they have a lot, but - "

"I'd rather have Tenley take yours anyway," Finn assured, "Some of the owls this morning looked a bit wonky in the wings, if you ask me." He smiled and Charlie seemed to relax a bit. However, Rebecca still looked a little embarrassed. "Any time you guys want to send something to anyone, go ahead, I don't mind."

"Really?" Charlie seemed a little surprised, seeing how Finn was so open to the idea after just meeting the two of them.

"Of course. We're friends now, right?" Finn raised his eyebrows and Charlie smiled back. Rebecca finally seemed to calm a bit.

"I'll go write my letter now, then," Charlie said excitedly, jumping off of the sofa and heading into their dormitory. He left Talon, who had been sleeping in his lap, now curled in a ball against Rebecca's leg.

"My parents didn't get me an animal," Rebecca said, giving Talon a gentle scratch on the head. "They said I'm not ready for one yet."

"Why would they say that?" Finn asked as she opened her bag to pull out her writing supplies to start her own letter.

"They said maybe next year they'll consider it. I guess I agree with them," she shrugged, "It is kind of a responsibility, isn't it? Having your own owl."

Finn had never thought about it as deeply as she was pointing out, but he shrugged in agreement. He did find it strange that Tenley never returned to the dormitory, and would be staying in the owlery throughout that year. He made a promise to himself to visit his owl as often as he could. It seemed a little dramatic as he made the vow, but at the same time, his thoughts went back to the shopkeeper at the emporium.

"Hey, Finn, you want a Chocolate Frog?"

Charlie's voice broke him out of his daze and he looked over the back of the sofa.

"Sure," he said eagerly.

"Here. Rebecca?" Charlie held one out to her and she took it slowly with a quiet, "Thanks."

"The only rule is if you get a card I don't have, you have to give it to me," Charlie said with a serious look, pointing at the two of them. Finn rolled his eyes and gave him an earnest nod. "Especially if either of you get Falco Aesalon, I've been trying to get that one for months. And here's my letter."

Finn took the envelope and tucked it into his pocket with his own, and Rebecca ate her chocolate slowly while carefully finishing up her note.

"Who's on the card, Becca?" Charlie asked with his mouth full.

She paused and peeled the rest of the wrapper back. "Xavier Rastrick," she read slowly.

Charlie made an odd face. "Don't remember if I've heard of him. Who was he?"

"He was a weirdo that disappeared while tap dancing in front of a crowd," Finn answered, his own mouth full of chocolate. Charlie looked over at him, quirking his eyebrows. Finn looked up. "What? I got the same card."

He handed the small moving picture to his friend, who turned it over to read about the oddball apparently dancing on the card. "Definitely haven't heard of him."

"So keep it," Finn snickered, looking over at Rebecca as she signed her letter and folded it to hand it over. "All finished?"

"Yeah. Dinner's supposed to start soon," she added, "Are you going to leave now, or wait until after we eat?"

"I think I'll head there now, I can probably make it back in time. You guys go ahead."

Finn got to his feet and picked up his bag, hurrying up the stairs to the dormitory to leave his belongings on his bed. He left his robes and yanked his shirt out from his waistband, which had been bothering him all day. He had never been one for wearing nice clothing unless he was visiting his family in London. He hated having to tuck in his shirt.

Making sure he had all three letters safely in his pocket, he came back down the staircase just as Charlie and Rebecca were getting ready to head out of the common room.

"We'll save you a spot, mate," Charlie promised. "And don't get lost!"

"See you soon," Finn said with a small wave. He watched them head down the corridor towards the Great Hall, and turned himself down one of the giant staircases that headed for the entrance to the castle.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

He looked around the grounds as he came outside, trying to remember where had been told the owlery was. To his relief, he saw a tall student, possibly a sixth year, pass by with a shining prefect badge on her collar.

"Excuse me," he said hesitantly, feeling like a nuisance. She hardly noticed him until she finally looked down. "I was wondering, could you point me towards the owlery?"

"That way," she said, almost in a bored voice. He noticed by her silver and green uniform that she was in Slytherin, and he immediately felt repelled by her. He hated feeling such things, but it was easy to tell that she was bothered by his questions. "Follow the path around the west side of the castle."

"Thanks," he said, feeling that his gratefulness was unnecessary for such a student. He hurried away from her as quickly as he could, shoving his hands in his pockets as he found the path she had pointed out.

Feeling confident that he now knew where he was going, he looked around as he walked. From his position, he could see out towards the edge of the Black Lake, the one the shopkeeper from the Magical Menagerie had warned him was infested with grindylows. The idea of some mysterious creature lurking at the bottom of the inky water did make him shudder, and he realized he couldn't blame Charlie for having a fear of such things.

He wondered why it did scare the boy so, and if there was any way of asking Charlie why he was so frightened by it. Again, he didn't want to bother his new friend with such questions, especially since they had just met.

A warm breeze passed through the grounds, a small cooler breeze coming off of the surface of the lake, and Finn felt his hair ruffle with the air. He scratched at it with a small smile, feeling like he was more grown up than he really was just by the idea of finally being at the school he had dreamed of for so long. He hoped his parents were really as proud as they had said they were in their letter.

The path started into an incline, and he slowed his speed, trying not to tire himself out. His legs were already aching from the countless stairs and what felt like miles that he had wandered about the school on his first day. He spotted the tower that was the owlery, and the long and winding staircase that would lead him up to the top. With a groan, he started his journey up the steps, more glad that he had left his robe behind than ever, considering the amount of sweat he was now feeling on his brow and neck.

He heard countless hoots and whistles, and a few screeches, as he finally made it to the top of the stairs. He found the old wooden door with the barred window at the top, and he pushed it open. There was a series of flutters and irritable hoots, as he had no doubt just woken many of the hundreds of sleeping owls. With the small swirl of guilt in his stomach, seeing as the sun had yet to set and the owls were still mostly sleeping, he looked around, turning his mouth up in wonder.

He tried to spot Tenley amongst the millions of feathers and colors in the rafters and small nests, until there was a long hoot and a flutter. The familiar speckled gray and black owl came gliding down from one of the tall rafters, the air rustling against his tall pointed ears that made Finn smile at the sight of them.

"Hello, Tenley," he said quietly. "I'm sorry for waking you up."

The owl gave a small chirp and turned his head slightly, his enormous eyes watching Finn closely.

"I was wondering if you could deliver some letters for my friends," Finn asked, "Along with mine?" He pulled the letters out of his pocket and Tenley's eyes locked onto them with a hoot. He shifted the footing of his large talons on the circle of perches that was in the middle of the room. He held out one large leg, his long black claws wide open, ready to grab the letters. Finn smiled as the owl took them loyally, and with another small chirp, lifted his wings with a loud flap, and disappeared out of one of the windows.

Finn watched his flight with an admirable stare, before his peaceful quiet was shattered by a scowling voice.

"What an ugly bird."

Finn jumped and turned around as several of the owls in the tower made loud and extremely annoyed screeches. Finn cursed silently at Loki, who was stomping his way into the room, making loud scrapes and crunches from the straw and dried pellets that littered the stone floor. Not only was his presence unwelcome, but Finn now felt sympathy for the annoyed owls. The blue eyed boy gave Finn little attention after his comment, merely snapping loudly, "Brenin!"

With a deep hoot, the largest owl Finn had ever laid eyes on flapped down from the rafters and landed soundly on one of the stone perches. Its feathers were large and splayed with black and dark gray, and his eyes were such a deep orange that they almost seemed to glow red. There were two small tufts at the top of his head that were similar to Tenley's, but much shorter. His beak and talons, however, could have easily been double the size of Finn's owl. It had to be an Eagle Owl, Finn realized, remembering the appearance of such a bird that Charlie had described to him the night before.

"Take this to my mother," Loki said demandingly. The gigantic bird snatched the letter up in his beak and, with a flap of his wings so forceful that Finn felt his hair blown back, it twisted into the air and disappeared out of a large window near the top of the tower. Finn stared in amazement after it. A large billow of feathers from around the owlery floated around them, tickling his nose, but he took no notice.

Loki gave Finn a sneering glance before turning to leave. "I'd be surprised too if my bird was the size of a _rat_."

"Tenley is not the size of a rat," Finn shot back immediately, taking his eyes from the window.

"Could have fooled me. I'd be ashamed if I had a bird that size. I'd probably put it out of its misery and feed it to the dogs back home."

The idea was so appalling to Finn that he could hardly think of anything to retort with. He knew that Tenley was still young, and was bound to grow nearly twice his own current size, but all the same, he now hated Loki more than he ever had simply for promoting the idea of killing birds for sport.

"Well," he managed to say, trying to keep his anger from showing, "That would be a mistake on your part, wouldn't it? Considering any _half-_witted person could tell you that Great Horned Owls are bound to grow to the same size as an Eagle Owl, such as your _own_, and would be capable of shredding any _mongrel_ you tried to feed it to."

Loki twitched and narrowed his eyes.

"If I were you, I'd give it a second thought before attempting such cruelty on animals and watching your dirty _mutts_ ripped to pieces.

There was a split second _crack_ and a loud series of screeches as feathers scattered into the air around them, and Finn realized that Loki had just slammed him into the wooden door of the owlery, and startled half of its residents that were now screaming shrill hoots and taking off irritably through the windows.

There was an arm across his chest and a wand at his throat, and Finn's entire body froze. His first thought was to attempt to grab his own wand, which he suddenly remembered was tucked into his robes, back in his dormitory. He felt a new sheen of sweat starting on his forehead, and Loki's cold blue eyes leaned in closer to him.

"You ever say those two words again, and I swear I'll rip your throat out," he said in a low voice.

"That won't go over to well with the teachers, would it?" Finn answered immediately. It was a bold move to speak under such conditions, he knew, but he felt he should do something other than want to piss himself. However, using the teachers as a defense, he felt, wasn't much better.

"They'd never find you," Loki said, his voice lower now, "_Trust me_."

"You can't do anything to me," the other boy insisted, imagining there were few spells that Loki could possibly know. "I'd like to see you try."

After the words left his mouth, Finn realized this was the worst challenge he could have ever presented. His next thought was in wonder at why this other boy seemed to hate him so much. He didn't understand.

His feet hit the ground as Loki removed his arm, but kept his wand pointed at Finn's face. The glare that he was being given made him want shiver, but all the same, he tried to return it. He didn't want this to be the way his first day at Hogwarts ended. He wasn't going to spend the rest of his days at the school in fear of this other boy, who had the gall to believe he was better than everyone. It was sickening.

What happened next shocked both of the boys, as Loki couldn't have possibly imagined that Finn was about to do what he did.

Out of the sheer anger of being taunted, Loki shouted the only spell they had been taught.

"_INCENDIO!_"

As the words left his mouth, Finn grabbed the end of his wand and shoved it out of his face, having no other defense. The fire that Finn had seen in his class earlier that day was nothing compared to what just engulfed his hand. It spilled out of Loki's wand like a tidal wave, and just as Finn had grabbed at it, the fire swarmed over his fingers and up his wrist.

Both of the boys had no doubts that the flames could have set Finn's entire body on fire, but instead, the very edge of it caught his hand, and the rest shot over Finn's shoulder into the wooden door with a blast of heat. Finn threw himself into the owlery out of the fire's way, and Loki jumped back into the stone wall at the top of the staircase.

The flames, having already scorched a large hole in the door, licked up the sides of the black charred edges, leaving glowing embers behind them. Finn suddenly felt the crushing feeling of heat in his arm and screamed without being able to stop himself.

The sight of his blackened skin horrified him, and he stumbled back into a hollow where a tall white barn owl had been perched. The bird shrieked and flapped around in a panic, raking its talons against the back of Finn's neck as it took off in terror.

When the feathers around him started to slow and flutter to the ground, Finn felt hot tears stinging his face as his hand began to spasm painfully. His eyes widened in fear and he shot his gaze to the burning door.

Loki was gone.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

The sun began to set behind the mountains outside of Hogwarts, and Finn stared at the sky through the tall windows of the Hospital Wing. He was sitting on one of the beds, waiting for Madam Pomfrey to return to tend to him. She had given him some potion to dull his pain, but it still left him with the throbbing in his arm, and a considerable headache.

He was holding a white bandage to the back of his neck where the owl had caught him with its talons, and his burnt hand was lying limply on his knee. He was being more patient than he expected himself to be, as Madam Pomfrey had three other students to attend to that had arrived before him. She had been raving as she ran back and forth between them all about the start of every school year, and how no student knew how to cast spells or make potions properly. He hadn't caught a glimpse of what the other students were ailed with, but he expected they were more urgent than his own injuries.

He figured by now that he had missed dinner, which was a shame, because he had started to realize how hungry he was as he watched the sun set. There was a sinking feeling in his stomach, however, that he was positive could not be attributed to his hunger.

He kept seeing Loki's face in his mind, and the absolute terror in his eyes after the spell had burnt down the door of the owlery. He couldn't imagine why Loki would go to the lengths of casting such a wild spell, but he reminded himself that he should now know better than to challenge him if the scenario presented itself in the future.

He also made it a point to remember his own wand from then on.

Thankfully, on his way back into the castle, he had run into Professor Longbottom, who was on his own way to dinner, and who had recognized the injury immediately. He warned Finn not to try practicing such spells idly, and offered to escort him to the Hospital Wing, where he informed Madam Pomfrey that Finn had accidentally burned himself while attempting a homework assignment. Finn didn't have the heart to correct the professor, as he felt ashamed enough.

_What kind of wizard am I if I can't even remember to bring my _wand_ with me?_

He scolded himself a few more times before Madam Pomfrey ushered one of the students out of the room and then came bustling over to him with another potion in hand.

"Drink this, Mr. Rowland, that burn of yours should be right as rain by tomorrow night." Finn took the cup from her silently and stared at the oddly colored liquid. "Might I suggest a quick gulp, my boy, it's not a particularly delightful taste."

Heeding the warning, Finn dumped the cup into his mouth and swallowed as fast as he could, nearly gagging from the bitter slimy consistency. It lingered in his mouth and he stuck his tongue out as the taste went from bitter to sour, and he felt that he was ready to vomit.

"Now, now, hold it in, there you go," she said carefully, taking the cup and setting on the table beside the bed. She grabbed the bandage that he was holding behind his neck and double checked where the gash from the owl had been. "Ah, there we go, that spell worked beautifully. Not even a scratch."

Finn looked at the bandage where there were noticeable deep red lines of his blood, and then felt under his hair line with his good hand. There were no marks that he could feel, and he blinked when he looked at his fingertips.

"Thanks," he said, surprised.

"Now, I'll have to wrap that hand for you for now." Finn watched her wave a wand that was tucked into her nurse's apron and a clean white bandage flowed from the tip and firmly around his hand. He felt it stiffen to keep his fingers tight, and his wrist became immobile. "Come back and see me before dinner tomorrow and I'll see how that burn's doing. Off you go."

She waved both of her hands to scoot him quickly off of the bed, but she smiled kindly at him otherwise. He didn't blame her for being in such a hurry, as he figured she had a lot of work to do, especially when he passed a second year Hufflepuff escorted by a teacher with green boils on his hands that were secreting some yellow pus onto his sleeves.

He hurried passed the student, hoping whatever he had done to himself was not contagious, and tried to find his way back towards the Gryffindor common room. He knew there was no chance of him attending dinner, as the halls were now flooded with students that had undoubtedly just exited the Great Hall.

He sighed to himself and continued to rub the back of his neck, still surprised at how quickly the gashes had gone away. He looked down at his wrapped hand, already feeling it ache and throb, but not as badly as it had.

He caught sight of a group of Gryffindor's that looked like they were heading towards the common room and decided to follow them. He was in luck when he spotted them approaching the Fat Lady, and hurried in behind them as she swung open to reveal the dormitories.

"FINN!"

He jumped at the loud shout of his name and found Charlie dodging the furniture to reach him. Rebecca was right behind him, and so was Rhys, who looked exceedingly pale for some reason.

"What happened to you?" Rebecca asked, "We were worried sick!"

Rhys looked over at her as though he was confused, but Charlie interrupted Finn as he opened his mouth.

"What happened to your shirt?"

Finn looked down at his left sleeve and noticed that it was burnt and tattered all the way up to the crook of his arm.

"Shirt my ass, what happened to your hand?" Rhys said while shooting Charlie a look that clearly yelled, "Some friend you are, who the hell cares about the _shirt_, you ponce!"

"It's fine," Finn said, trying to calm them down, and in shock at how much _they_ seemed to be panicking. "It's just a burn, Madam Pomfrey fixed it, I'm fine."

"A burn from what?" Rebecca asked, grabbing his bandaged hand gently to look at it.

"It's nothing," he insisted, pulling his fingers away. He had half a mind to tell them about the owl scratch that he'd obtained on his neck just a while ago, but at the thought of owls, he looked at Rhys and kept quiet. Even if he had decided to bring up such an incident, Rhys looked white and sick enough.

"He was probably practicing that spell from Herbology this morning, weren't you?" Charlie asked, giving a sly smile almost as if he meant to say, "I told you so."

"Not exactly," Finn started, before stopping himself.

"You missed dinner," Rebecca pointed out obviously, "You're not too hungry, are you?"

"Starved, actually, but I'll be okay. How was it, anyway?"

Finn wandered over to the sofa in front of the fire, which was low, so as to not overheat the common room. Several students had headed off to bed, and others were either quietly studying or chatting in various corners around them. He flopped onto the cushions, his legs feeling more exhausted than he could have ever remembered them being.

"Well, they had this amazing turkey," Charlie started, "With this cranberry sauce that was to _die_ for, and then for dessert there was this _huge_ cake full of - "

"_Charlie_," Rhys interrupted, "I think food is the last thing he wants you to brag about right now?"

"Oh, sorry," the spectacled boy muttered. He looked down at Finn and pressed his mouth closed tightly, sitting next to him. "Hey, you all right, mate?"

Finn looked at him, noticing how much of a concerned tint they had taken on. He swallowed, feeling so ridiculous at the thought of being _bullied_ by another student that he sank into the sofa.

"I ran into Loki at the owlery," he said finally. Charlie's eyes immediately turned to irritation, as did Rhys's. Rebecca's were more of a worried sheen than angry.

"And he did that to you?" Rhys asked, sounding as though he was hoping he wasn't right.

"I think it was an accident," he started.

"Accident? What a load of - you don't _accidentally_ set someone on fire, Finn!" Charlie sounded enraged now.

"I accidentally set my food on fire," Finn reminded.

"That's different! You don't point your wand _at_ someone and then _accidentally_ jinx them, it doesn't work like that," Rhys interjected, crossing his arms. "This kid's got a death wish with me, I swear it."

"He didn't do anything to you," Finn argued, staring at the fire with a tantrum growing on his face.

"Well, he did outside of class this morning." Rebecca closed her mouth when Finn shot her a warning glance.

"Look, I ran into him, we got into an argument, and he pulled his wand. It was just a stupid threat. He said he was gonna hex me, I told him he was full of it, so he tried. I went to grab his wand from him, and it burnt my hand. It was a stupid accident."

He knew that his fib was going to easily be broken through by Charlie, who was already staring at him skeptically, but he figured the true story wouldn't have done any better. Loki clearly had an issue with Rhys, and if Rhys tried to start something after learning the full story, something else was going to break loose.

"Honestly, it was just an accident. I provoked him, it was my fault. Just let it go."

"You've started a fight with someone on your first day, Finn," Rebecca reminded.

"Twice," Charlie corrected.

"So we stay away from him, big deal. It's not like he's going to try it again. For all he knows, I told Madam Pomfrey he did it on purpose, he probably thinks McGonagall's going to give him detention for it."

"She should," Rebecca said firmly.

"Speaking of which, how was detention with Professor Wesley?" Finn asked Rhys, hoping to turn the conversation away from himself.

The spiky haired boy looked at Charlie quickly, who blinked at him. Rhys then looked at the fire after a pause and answered grumpily, "I don't want to talk about it."

Finn looked questioningly at Charlie, who raised his eyebrows and merely shook his head just barely enough to see. Finn narrowed his eyes, feeling a little brought down that he had at least told them about Loki, even it had been a lie, but they wouldn't tell him about some stupid detention that Rhys had been forced to attend. How bad could _detention_ have been compared to being set on _fire_ by a mad student with a superiority complex?

Charlie clapped his hands to his knees and got to his feet. "I think it's time for bed, don't you guys?"

Rebecca had already started yawning, and then nodded in agreement. She gave the boys a small wave and said her goodnights, disappearing off towards the girls' dorimtories.

"I'm going to stay up a bit and do some homework," Rhys insisted, sitting down on the other end of the sofa.

"If you say so. I'm beat," Charlie said, heading towards his own dormitory. Finn decided to follow, saying goodnight to Rhys, and watching the young Elwyn stare into the fire dully before he shut the door to their room.

Finn turned around and immediately tore off his burnt shirt, throwing it into the corner near his bed in annoyance, and rummaging around for his pajamas. He closed one of the drawers to the small dresser beside his bed and opened the top one, remembering how he had unpacked his clothing.

He prepared himself for sleep, feeling the same dull throb continue in his arm that was driving him mad. He sat on his bed and was about to pull the covers over himself when Charlie appeared next to him.

"I've got one left, if you want to eat it before you go to sleep." He was holding out his last Chocolate Frog. Finn looked up and saw that Charlie had taken off his glasses, and he looked odd without them. His eyes were brighter, he noticed, and they seemed kinder. He silently took the small package from him with a short nod before watching his friend get into bed.

Finn had the sneaking suspicion that Charlie knew almost immediately that he had lied about Loki. His stomach sank and he opened the small piece of chocolate, nearly wolfing it down in one bite from his hunger. He glanced at the card as he went to set the wrapper on his nightstand before adjusting his eyes to read the name _Falco Aesalon_ printed under the shimmering picture of a wizard that was smiling with a falcon on his arm. In a split second, the wizard morphed into a similar looking bird and the two flew off somewhere into the corner of the card.

Finn couldn't keep himself from smiling just a bit despite the day's trials. He quietly moved from under his blankets and stepped over to Charlie's nightstand, placing the card under his glasses and returning to bed.

While his head sank into his pillow, he felt his hand go numb finally, and he quickly fell into a sound sleep.


End file.
